


Out of the Corner of My Eye

by onestepatatime



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and sadness are possible., Coming of Age, Gen, Modern Era, Protective Thorin, This is not a horror story.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-03-08 18:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3219569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onestepatatime/pseuds/onestepatatime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say that you can see things out of the corner of your eye that disappear when you turn your head. It makes you wonder what you actually saw when you realize that it is a fact that humans can see into the infrared range of light only with their side vision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How boring art thou. Let me count the ways.

**Author's Note:**

> Legal Disclaimer: All trademarks and copyrights are owned by their respective owners; I make no profit from this now questionable trip to Arda.
> 
> The name meanings are from the real website kabalarians.com.
> 
> Baginski is an actual last name that I found on a list of U.S. surnames.

William "Bilbo" Baginski sigh as he typed his name into the website's search box.

"Bilbo. B I L B O." Why was he even trying this?

_Your first name of Bilbo has given you a practical, logical, analytical approach to life and a great deal of patience._

"True enough." Bilbo sigh again. More words to describe boring.

_You enjoy working at anything of a mechanical or technical nature, and believe that what is worth doing is worth doing well._

"Hardly." Bilbo was completely inept with anything involving tools, especially a hammer. Yes, his mother had taught him to do things well, but it still labeled him as boring.

_When you are interested in a project, you concentrate all your thoughts on it and do not appreciate being interrupted._

"True, but this still calls me boring." Bilbo was always being interrupted as he tried to work on his as yet to be published novel.

_This name creates a deliberate and methodical way of thinking and speaking; it takes you time to learn but, once you have mastered a subject, you do not forget it._

"I will never forget NOT mastering the hammer." Bilbo well remembered his father, a cupboard maker, trying to pass on his knowledge to his only son.

_You are very systematic in all you do and do not like to see things out of order; however, there is a tendency for you to be too fussy._

"I already know all this!" Bilbo was getting fussier by the moment.

_There is a seriousness to your nature which could cause you to worry over your responsibilities, especially when confronted with change and uncertainty._

"How can I not worry when my extended family constantly reminds me of every worry that they have and that I have not solved?" Who had made Bilbo the designated family problem solver anyway? Holiday get togethers had been a nightmare since Bilbo was twelve and his aunt asked him for tax advice.

_You are overly fond of heavy foods such as meat, potatoes, breads and pastries and could suffer with stomach and intestinal disorders, constipation or boils._

"That is just gross." Bilbo liked to eat, but surely never had stomach ailments. Boils? Never. Was this some kind of clandestine medical site?

_Although the name Bilbo creates the urge to be reliable and responsible, we emphasize that it limits your versatility and scope, tuning you to technical details._

"My versatility?" Bilbo just sigh. He could not even go on a weekend holiday out of town without some uncle calling to berate him about leaving his mother and father alone.

_This name, when combined with the last name, can frustrate happiness, contentment, and success, as well as cause health weaknesses in the elimination system, and through worry and mental tension._

"I'm NOT telling Fred what I found on here!" Bilbo turned off his computer. His supposed best friend would undoubtedly be plugging Bilbo's name into the sight. At any time Bilbo would start getting constipation jokes texted to him for the next month.

Fred Moreau was a good friend with his heart in the right place. He had meant to be helpful when suggesting the site to a moping Bilbo. The trouble was, Fred was a unrepentant joker who never such a heckling opportunity pass him by, with Bilbo's clumsiness giving him plenty of fodder. It was a rather one sided friendship in Bilbo's eyes, but no other friend had been able to withstand the misery of Bilbo's encroaching family for more than six months.

Bilbo had the properly English given name of William, but the doctor had taken one look at him and given him the moniker that had stuck throughout his entire lifetime. It was not Bilbo's fault that his family was one of the last to be able to show actual records proving that his family was descended from the now extinct race of hobbits.

Balbo Baggins had been the first recorded Baggins hobbit. The Baginski's were descended through a Pasco Baggins, but it did not matter. Bilbo was named after the mythical hobbit that was distantly related to Posco.

Many claimed to have hobbit, elf, even orc bloodlines in their family. Some even had the audacity to claim dwarven ancestors, but those were mostly celebrities trying to revive dying movie careers. As for hobbits, the last full blooded Baggins had died a thousand years ago. Five hundred years ago during the Inquisition, most families had burned all records that they could get there hands on. Fearing the wrath of the "Man Shall Rule" movement and its insane leaders, hobbit descendants had carefully bred themselves to not have big feet and hobbit ears. Many were still short, but that could not be helped.

Bilbo often wondered if he should thank or curse his wild ancestor, "Bullroarer Took" for stubbornly saving the Took and Baggins geneology scrolls dating back to the beginning of the Age of Men. In his quest to find something not utterly boring about himself, Bilbo had half hoped that he was related to someone exciting, not insane. Perhaps he even had ties to the elves through the Lady Arwen, husband of the famous king Aragorn. No, Bilbo had only found that his family just had to be the closest related living descendants of the famous Bilbo "Mad Baggins". Bilbo preferred boring over a mental instability any day, thank you very much!

Bilbo went into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. Drying it, he looked at himself in the mirror. Hair ranging from dark blonde to light auburn curled around his face with his green eyes peering back at him. No matter how short Bilbo kept his hair, untamed curls refused to behave in any sense of an orderly fashion.

"Perhaps I should change my name." Bilbo headed back to his computer, though it was one in the morning. During the Inquisition many of the Baggins clan had taken the last name of Labingi, the ancient Westron form of Baggins. Bilbo had no idea how his own surname had morphed into Baginski. It had just popped up in the family line about two hundred years ago. Strangely enough, none of his talk you to death aunts or uncles would explain the story behind the name change.

"Hello, there." Bilbo forgot this idea stream when he got back to his study. The computer that he remembered turning off was on. It was still on the same web page, but a last line was there that had definitely not been there before.

_You are the truest friend that a person could ask for. Your loyalty is unwavering, as is your bravery._

"Huh." Bilbo slumped into his chair, reading and rereading the entry. No one had ever equated him with loyalty, though Bilbo was so dependable that no one had ever thought to wonder about loyalty. As for bravery, no one would equate such a lofty description with him, especially in conjunction with loyalty.

Bilbo was jarred out of his musing when the printer began to screech out a paper. He jumped, then caught himself. His computer had probably caught a computer virus from this website. Thanks, Fred! But when Bilbo read the page it was a repetition of the last line printed in large, bold letters over and over, filling the entire page.

"I'll take my computer to the shop in the morning." Bilbo turned off the computer, and unplugged it as well as the printer. For now, it was one in the morning and Bilbo needed to rest before the barrage of joking texts from Fred and the endless needling phone calls from relatives began.


	2. Though this be madness, yet there is friendship in it.

“I don’t know, Bilbo.” The head technician at the computer store had been called over to look at Bilbo’s computer an hour ago. “It’s not a virus, nor is it malware. None of our antivirus programs recognize it.”  
  
“Then what is it?” Bilbo had not planned on wasting his day off at the computer store. When he had turned his computer on this morning, and even now, the computer would only show the same phrase over and over on the screen.  
  
 _You are the truest friend that a person could ask for. Your loyalty is unwavering, as is your bravery._  
  
While this phrase was complimentary, Bilbo did need his laptop for school in the morning. He had three incomplete homework projects that he had forgotten to back up on a disk. The head technician did not inspire confidence when a store display wireless printer began to spit out paper filled with the phrases. The man had to settle for unplugging the unit.  
  
“I would say that your entire hard drive has been wiped clean and overwritten to do just this.” The technician was middle aged, but even he cringed at the thought of Bilbo’s homework going down the tubes. “We could try to do a data recovery for you, but it will take a few days. I can’t guarantee what will be salvageable, if anything.”  
  
“Wiped clean.” Bilbo’s face showed nothing but shock. He could rewrite the English class essay again, though it was comprised of ten pages that relied heavily on quotes from books that he had already returned to his instructor for other students to use. He could rewrite his Sociology class review of capitalism. His Ecology class report on the growth of several varieties of _Adiantum_ ferns in different soils was another story.  
  
“I would recommend an upgrade to Doors 8. I see that you still have the Doors XP version. You can have the memory expanded if you‘d like. I will even throw in a free antivirus program. It will be like having a new computer.” The head technician patted Bilbo’s shoulder. “We also have some laptops for rent. Might I suggest adding a memory stick to your purchase?”  
  
“At least I still have my lab notes. Fine, how much per day?” Bilbo walked out of the shop with a rather battered, but serviceable rental laptop and the latest memory stick in his backpack.  
  
“Now all I have to do is reenter three months of notes into a computer program that I have to rewrite.” Bilbo sigh as he readjusted his backpack. His Ecology report was due in two weeks. He still had no idea how he would convince his English instructor to relend him the books, or agree on a topic change. He could at least rewrite the framework for his capitalism review today. He had some class notes highlighting its organization.  
  
“Why me?” Bilbo sigh as he pushed the button to turn the light at the intersection. He would have to take off several days from work at the deli to finish all of his projects. Those were several days that he could not afford with a tuition payment coming due next week.  
  
“Bilbo!” Bilbo heard his name called. He saw a blur of a man dressed in black out of the corner of his eye. The next minute a hand grabbed Bilbo’s arm and he was tossed into a shop’s doorway. There was the unmistakable sound of screeching tires and a metallic impact.  
  
“Are you alright?” The shopkeeper helped Bilbo to his feet. “You were very lucky to dodge out of the way in time.”  
  
“I didn’t…” Bilbo turned and all words left him. Breath left him. The pole that he had been standing by was now wearing what used to be a sports car for a skirt. The driver got out, visibly shaken.  
  
“Are you alright? I think a tire blew. It just jumped the curb.”  
  
“I was pulled out of the way.” Bilbo looked around. There was only the woman shopkeeper, dressed in a bright red outfit, and the shaken drive, a business man by his suit.  
  
“I only saw you.” The shopkeeper set Bilbo down on a chair inside her doorway.  
  
“At least no one is hurt.” The driver had a nasty cut on his forehead. At least he had been more concerned with Bilbo than his now totaled car. Soon paramedics came and took the man to an ambulance.  
  
“You saw nothing?” Bilbo was questioned by a young, nervous policeman.  
  
“Someone called my name and yanked me into a doorway.” Bilbo repeated for the tenth time. Sometimes Bilbo did not have to wonder if he was being discriminated against. The policeman had read his name on his ID with obvious distaste.  
  
“We’ll call you if we need anything else.” A captain, or whoever, Bilbo didn’t really care, pulled his younger peer away. “You’ll get nothing more from him. Go call the tow truck company again. Traffic is backing up for two blocks!”  
  
“Yes, sir.” The young patrolman gave Bilbo a suspicious look and left. Did he really think that Bilbo somehow caused the accident?  
  
“You have no injuries, sir?” The captain was much nicer.

“Just skinned hands from falling in the doorway.” Bilbo opened his backpack and pulled out the computer. “Though this laptop is ruined.”  
  
“Maybe not. There is a repair shop not far from here.” The captain grimaced at the long crack running along the computer’s case.  
  
“I just rented this one from there. Mine is being repaired. I can’t afford this!” Bilbo wailed. He hated it when he had to borrow money from his parents. They didn’t mind, and often insisted, but really. They were on a strict budget with his dad’s pension and his mother’s disability allowance. Not to mention the extended family hounding Bilbo for "milking his parents for money".  
  
“You are one lucky person today, my boy.” The captain’s tone changed to a fatherly one. “If what you say is true, then you should be the one in that there ambulance, with more than a few stitches needed. Be thankful you only broke something that can be replaced. I for one am glad that I do not have to visit your parents with bad news.”  
  
“Yes, sir.” Bilbo did not sound grateful. He felt a hand stroke his cheek, only to turn and see a blur of black, then nothing.  
  
“Give the store technician my card. I will talk to them when this is all cleaned up. We might just be able to convince the driver or his insurance to cover the cost of replacing the laptop. A rental can’t be worth that much.” The captain handed Bilbo his business card, patted him on the shoulder, then went to see the tow truck that just arrived.


	3. As bad luck would have it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred's jokes get Bilbo fired. His laptop is salvaged. His wallet is not.

“Come on, Bilbo!” Fred waved the bagged salad over the deli’s counter. “It was just a joke.”

“I do not see the sentiment, Fred.” Bilbo turned his back on his infuriating friend as the deli manager came in.

“Baginski, your third or fifth cousin on your father’s side of the family called. Your grandfather wants a meeting with you asap. I am also not your secretary!”

“Sorry, boss. It won’t happen again.” Bilbo could only shrug and take the order of the next customer in line.

“This is the third time today and the tenth time this week, Baginski. Just go see the old codger. If you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to run a business here, not a family reunion show.”

“Bilbo, this will help cleanse your system, decreasing stress and mental tension. Take it, I insist.” Fred was all grins as he tossed the salad bag directly onto the sandwich that Bilbo was halfway through making.

“Fred, what do you think you’re doing?” Bilbo barely had the words out just before the world became chaos.

Before Bilbo could pick up the offending bag, he saw a blur of black out of the corner of his eye. The sandwich and the bagged salad swung up into the air, over the deli counter and both hit Fred with a rather loud thud.

“What happened here?” The manager came out as the long line of customers began to yell in confusion. Bilbo could only hold up his empty hands.

“I have no idea.” It did not sound like a plausible answer, as Fred was now out cold on the floor.

“Baginski, you are fired! Take your good for nothing friend and go!” The manager had nearly fired Bilbo earlier when he had asked for a few days off to rework his assignment. That, in addition to the phone ringing yet again, was the last straw.

“Yes, sir.” Bilbo sigh as he handed over his cap and apron.

 

****

 

“I’m really sorry, Bilbo. I did not mean for you to get fired.” Fred apologized all the way to the computer store.

“It’s alright, Fred.” Bilbo did not have the heart to be angry. Fred had a nasty bruise on his jaw and mayo in his hair.

“How are you going to pay your tuition, Bilbo? It’s due in three days.” Fred himself had barely paid for his classes the day prior and had little money to buy food with, much less contribute to Bilbo’s tuition.

“I don’t know, Fred.” Bilbo was glad to reach the computer store. He was fortunate that Fred hadn’t asked any questions. How could one explain flying sandwiches that hit like a brick?

“Ah, Bilbo.” The technician smiled as they approached the repair counter. He had not smiled when Bilbo had brought back the damaged rental computer. He had also not allowed Bilbo to have another rental.

“You called with good news?” Bilbo forced a smile. At least Fred was distracted by a display of new gaming consoles.

“Your computer is good as new. We were able to save your data, expand its memory, and upgrade to a beta version of Doors 10. We also included the free antivirus program.” Bilbo’s laptop was set on the counter. He breathed in relief as he brought up the Ecology data.

“Now for the bad news.” The technician pulled out a folder of paperwork. “The cost.”

“The cost?” Bilbo cringed.

“The driver’s auto insurance did not cover the rental laptop. That leaves you responsible for its replacement value.”

“I see.” Bilbo pulled out his wallet. He had been paid his last wages in cash so the manager did not have to see him ever again. So much for getting a referral for his next job application.

“Laptop data recovery is $55.60. Memory upgrade is $75.88. Doors 10 is $109.99. That was a discount, you have the professional version worth $149.98. Just inform Smallsoft of any bugs still in the operating system that you find.”

“Bugs in the system?” Bilbo did not need this, not at all.

“We can change it to the Doors home version, but it will take an extra day and still cost the same. Your computer’s operating system was unusable, so you have to choose something.” Another paper was turned over. Both knew that Bilbo needed his assignments right away.

“Total so far is $391.45. Add in the cost of the rental, oh I see that Mitch took off $50.00 for salvagable parts. Cost of the rental is $281.77. Tax on $673.22 is $40.39, so your grand total is $713.61. Will that be cash or charge?”

“Both?” Bilbo grinned sheepishly. Every dime in his wallet covered what his emergency credit card with a limit of $500 didn’t.

 

****

 

“I hate to do this, Dad.” Bilbo was at the Hobbiton Bank with his father.

“Don’t worry about it, Bilbo.” William Baginski, Senior watched the teller type up the cashier’s check. “It will be enough for this tuition payment, the emergency card, this month’s rent, as well as a little left over for food if you are careful.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Bilbo cringed even as he hugged his dad and took the cashier’s check. Half of the tellers, as well as some of those in line were family. Bilbo would be hearing it from his whole family very soon.

“Your education is top priority, Junior. Finish those assignments on time. You’ve got a whole month now to look for a job. Should be plenty in a big city such as Bree.” William Baginski would brook no argument when it came to Bilbo’s education. “I expect you to return the favor when I’m old and gray and you have a fancy pants skyscraper job with a big, fat salary.”

“O.k., Dad.” That joke always made Bilbo smile. His father’s hair had turned gray when Bilbo was nine. It took some of the sting away when he glanced over to see that the receipt said that Bungo had drawn money out of his retirement savings and not his carefully budgeted checking account.

Bilbo’s mother was not taking no for an answer either when she presented her son with a basket of baked goods.

“Mom, you know that you shouldn’t be on your feet when you get these dizzy spells.” Bilbo dare not refuse the basket. Donna Baginski had a Took’s fiery temper when it suited her.

“Then you come home a bit more often and bake for me.” Donna smiled and kissed her son’s cheek.

“I will, Mom. Right after I get some big assignments finished.” Bilbo knew that Donna was just as adamant as her husband that he get an education.

“Don’t you let our relations get you down, either.” Donna gripped Bilbo’s shoulders. “I know how much they bother you. Just tell them that it is our money to do with as we see fit, and they are not fit to spend it on.” She laughed and sat in her overstuffed chair to pick up knitting that Bilbo noticed that she did not even look at.

“The dizzy spells are getting worse, aren’t they, Mom?”

“Nothing to be done about it. I’ve seen the best doctors.” Donna pushed Bilbo’s concern away. “I’m concerned for you, Bilbo. A nice policeman called a few days ago, following up on some investigation of a car crash you witnessed.”

“Why are the police bothering you and Dad?” Bilbo was horrified. His parents did not need such stress. His dad must have made the money available days ago, if he thought about it. Pulling money from a retirement account meant filling out paperwork and waiting at least one business day.

“Just a routine follow up, he said.” William took his son in an iron grip. “You are worth more than money to us, Bilbo. You take care of yourself, you hear?”

“I will.” Bilbo barely managed, all chocked up. If an unseen hand put a handkerchief in his own hand, he didn’t notice as he wiped his eyes.


	4. I would not wish you as anyone's companion in the world.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo could get used to this blur thing happening all around him. Fred is an absolute jerk who spouts off one too many time.

“I can help whoever is next in line.” One of three tellers in the college bursar’s office called out.

“That’s me.” Bilbo woke himself up out of his stupor just to see the guy behind him zip to the window.

“Snooze and you lose. Some of us actually have things to do.” The guy gave a smile that must have won him many dates, but not Bilbo’s forgiveness.

“Next in line.” Another teller sigh wearily at the thought of two more hours of this as she called out. “May I see your student ID?”

“My tuition payment.” Bilbo passed his ID and a bank envelope under the clear partition.

“We prefer checks. Cash can be stolen.” The teller quickly counted out the money. “We highly recommend using the online tuition payment option.”

“I just got the money today. My bank would not have credited my account until tomorrow.” The bill was due today, unless he wanted to pay a $30 late fee.

“Uh huh. You are $60 dollars short.” The teller had clearly heard it all before. Bilbo briefly wondered how many years until she could retire before her words sunk in. Three rather crumpled $20 dollar bills landed by the clearly counted pile of bills.

“Short?” Bilbo had been in a hurry and had not counted the money before leaving the bank.  

“Thank you. Here is your receipt. Next in line, please.” The receipt was in his hand and the next student was excusing themselves as they nudged Bilbo aside.

“Hey, you! Where’s my wallet? It’s missing.” The guy who had cut in front of Bilbo grabbed his arm.

“I was ahead of you in line.” Bilbo held up hands holding only his student ID and the precious receipt.

“I’ve been behind both of you, Matt.” A girl who must have been one of Matt’s recent ex girlfriends chimed in from the line. “Leave the guy alone, he hasn’t been anywhere near your pockets.”

“Mind your own business, Amy.” Matt was clearly unhappy to see this girl and lose his wallet.

“Hey, Matt! Your wallet.” Someone farther back in line picked up a wallet from a back corner of the room and threw it to him.

“I had $100 in here.” Matt’s whine was not as charming as his smile. Bilbo merely mumbled about having other things to do and slipped out the exit. If he felt two crumpled bills in his coat pocket that had definitely not been there earlier, he wasn’t going to announce it.

\---

“Lighten up, Bilbo. You eat too healthy for a college student. Haven’t you heard of the freshman fifteen that you are supposed to gain?” Fred caught the bag of chips that Bilbo threw back at him.

“You still owe Mrs. Allen your half of this month’s rent.” Bilbo was never cleaning the woman’s garage or attic out ever again as her idea of a late fee. As for the extra pounds, Bilbo had already lost fifteen pounds, and they were barely past midterms.  

“Thanks to you, Fred, I no longer have a job where I can bring home the extra food.” Fred had never bothered with the greens, which was why Bilbo was buying greens. Fred could buy his own food. But both would miss the deli meats and cheeses that were still good, but could no longer be sold.

“You eat like a hobbit.” Fred grumbled under his breath as his attempts to place microwave pizza in the cart failed yet again.

“Fred!” Bilbo hissed and looked around. Luckily, they were the only ones in the frozen foods aisle. That was a very rude remark. He knew full well that his heritage had cost him at the bank.

“At least you’re not a dwarf.” Fred continued cheerfully. “Ate like downright pigs, they did. Probably went extinct from getting most of their food in their beards and not in their stomachs.”

Bilbo gaped in shock at his friend for a moment. Sure, Fred often joked about inappropriate things. That, that was just obscene! No one mentioned dwarves in polite company in Hobbiton. Bilbo took his cart with a grim face and went to the next aisle.  

Dwarves were not remembered kindly by history. As Man  began to dominate Arda during the second half of the Fourth Age, the last dwarven strongholds had sealed themselves away from the world. They were not heard from again until the Inquisition, when overzealous Men had broken into Erebor to find it laid waste by a plague. Other strongholds had died out from reasons ranging from inbred infertility to natural disasters, but none were as famous as the Lonely Mountain after it was breached.

In Erebor half of the Men who came to steal its riches came down with the same dwarven plague before it was discovered that the disease was not fatal to humans. It was cited as chicken pox with boils instead of blisters, and a full recovery was made within a month if the victim was healthy. But the “Man Shall Rule” movement took full advantage of the situation. Within a decade, dwarves were written into history as disease ridden vermin for whom extinction had been a kindness. For if the greatness of Erebor itself was disease ridden and so greedy as to lock itself away with gold just to die, then there was no good thing to say about dwarves.

As a descendant of an “impure” bloodline that refused to relinquish its heritage to the forgotten past, Bilbo could not stomach such jokes. Hobbits might not have been portrayed as vermin, but he could believe it when he heard rumors that in some parts of the world, those Men with confirmed dwarven ancestry were little better than slaves. Donna had punished more than one of Bilbo’s older Took cousins with a paddling when they had frightened him with horror stories about how some of the last hobbits had been coveted as pets.

Bilbo tried to push such thoughts out of his head as he pondered the benefits of steel rolled oats versus its costs. A scream and thuds from the frozen foods aisle, followed by a slamming sound, ruined his musings. Bilbo reluctantly left the cart and dragged himself off to collect his friend. Someone with an overdeveloped sense of propriety, or a clandestine dwarf descendant had probably beat the snot out of him.

“Why do I put up with you, Fred?” Bilbo found him literally shoved inside a freezer between the frozen pizza shelves and the door. It took nearly five minutes for him and a stock boy to free Fred’s foot from a freezer coil, or whatever it was. Bilbo was not mechanically inclined, thank you. By then, Fred was holding a bag of frozen peas over what promised to be a whopper of a black eye.

“You won’t believe what happened.” Fred babbled on as Bilbo dragged him and his bag of peas to the checkout. “As soon as you left, a short dude appeared and threw me in the freezer.”

“I wonder why.” Bilbo allowed himself to splurge with a bottle of brand name aspirin from a display near the checkout lines.

“It was a real live dwarf, with long hair, beard and all. I swear.” Fred gushed as the cashier glared at him before scanning the peas and throwing the bag at him.

“Shut up, Fred!” For the first time in years, Bilbo raised his voice above a polite level. His yell had everyone looking at them. Though he knew that everyone had already noticed them.

“Well, I’m impressed! Didn’t know that you had it in you.” Fred only smirked as Bilbo took his change. Bilbo said nothing when yet another blur of black was followed by Fred slipping on some squashed grapes.


	5. This is very midsemester madness.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo has an enlightening talk with his school advisor, who introduces him to an interesting fellow. Fred is obsessed with catching the dwarf on camera. Bilbo just wants to have a normal life.

“You wish to graduate with a degree in the Biological Sciences, William?” Bilbo’s academic advisor hadn’t one looked at him as he read from his computer. There were ten other freshmen in the waiting room with appointments at the same time. None could sign up for their Spring semester courses without this appointment first.

“In Botany, specifically.” There were several options available with this degree and each had very different requirements. Bilbo did not have time to clear up any mistakes with his schedule. He had found a job at the local hardware store and the hours were varied and demanding.

“I see that you have selected your courses for next semester. You are considering Ecology as a minor as well? Are you considering being a teacher?”

“Yes to the minor. No, I have no interest in being a teacher.”

“There are more grants and scholarships available for those pursuing a teaching degree. You would not have to be so concerned with making rent each month, William.” The advisor’s voice droned on. He knew nothing about Bilbo; almost all freshmen struggled to get used to working, going to school, and paying bills.

“I have a job and a roommate who pays half of everything.” Bilbo interjected. He still felt terrible at needing his parents’ help, but he was trying his best.

“Oh, yes.” The advisor turned from his computer and opened a file folder. “Your midterm exams went well, but some important projects needed extensions.”

“In a writing course and Ecology. I had a computer problem. Both professors were satisfied with the paperwork that I showed them to verify it. I’ve been careful to back up my work on a separate memory source ever since.”

“Yes, I see that. Your instructors were quite surprised with your projects. They had apparently expected poor work, but you even included how you improved the projects in your project reports.”

“Yes, sir. If everything is in order, will you activate my schedule now?”

“Are you in a hurry, William?”

“I need to have a confirmed schedule for student aid to be awarded. I’ve been approved for a federal Pell grant, but each semester is awarded independently. You also have several other students waiting, sir.”

“You should really consider a teaching certificate. I could do the paperwork now and start you with one of the classes.”

“No thank you. I’m not interested. Is there a shortage of teachers? I don’t fancy myself teaching in an inner city school. I want to take an internship far from the city.”

“Speaking of internships, businesses do sometimes ask for our recommendation for interns. One such firm has spoken of an interest in you, an internship as a teacher in your field. They have some major issues with another firm owned by their corporation.”

“It sounds like they need an experienced botanist, not an intern. I also will not be ready for an internship until my junior year at the earliest. If they do insist on an intern now, I’m certain that you can direct them to the Biological Studies academic advisor that is assigned to juniors or seniors.” Bilbo was not about to be conned into taking extra classes to line the university’s pockets with even more tuition money.

“I will. It seems that whoever takes this internship has all expenses paid, including room and board. There is even a trip in the summer out to the second firm’s location in Europe.”

“Then they definitely do not want me. I can’t leave my parents.” Bilbo shook his head. He was in college to help his parents, not abandon them as he gallivanted around Europe. He would be smart and stick to his strict regimen of courses, work hard at his job, and graduate on schedule.

“Their representative was very keen on talking to you, though I understand your situation. Here is his card if you wish to reconsider. Your schedule is all set for next semester. Good luck on your finals, William.” The advisor stood, passing a business card to Bilbo as they shook hands.

“Erecorp, Inc. Benjamin Balinson. Hmm.” Bilbo ignored the next freshman giving him a dirty look for taking so long. He leaned against the wall a moment and looked at the card with its odd angular writing and a picture of a spooky looking mountain peak.

“James, these people want a botany teacher.” Bilbo passed off the card to a friend he was meeting to discuss an upcoming class project.

“I don’t want to teach ornery teenagers, Bilbo. Neither do you.” James flicked the card into a trash can. “Now which species of fern or moss do you want to use?”

\----

“What do you mean you can’t pay your half of the rent?” Bilbo towered over Fred as his friend lay groaning on the sofa. This is not what Bilbo needed after offloading lumber shipments all afternoon.

“I hurt my back when I fell off the ladder. I can’t work for six weeks.” Fred worked in the distribution center of a health and beauty company, packing orders for shipment. Lifting was a big part of his job.

“And why were you on the ladder? You cleaned the gutters last month.”

“I was installing a game camera. It is infrared and will snap pictures of anything that goes by.”

“Why?”

“To get a picture of that dwarf. He must be following you. I keep seeing black blurs to the side when I’m out with you, Bilbo.”

“Where did you get the money for the camera if you can’t pay rent?” Bilbo spoke through clenched teeth.

“Your safety is my concern, Bilbo. You do not take this threat serious enough.” Fred looked like he believed every word.

“Where is the receipt? We’ll get your money back if the thing isn’t broken. Then the rest of the rent is your problem, Fred. If you can’t afford it, then you’ll have to move out.”

“Bilbo!” Fred tried to sit up and groaned in pain.

“I still have my parents to pay back, Fred. Money that they didn’t have. Stuff some aspirin down your gullet and go out to find a job that you can do with a bad back. I’m going to return this stupid game camera and flat out tell you to leave off this dwarf nonsense.” Bilbo marched out to the garage to get a screwdriver.

\----

“Is there something wrong with the camera? I’ve never had a complaint about this model before.” The clerk at the outdoor living shop took the camera out of its box and peered closely.

“My friend is what’s wrong. He needs the money for rent. He’s not even a hunter.” Bilbo was still seeing red and was a bit abrupt.

“The mounting bracket is cracked. Did he drop it or was it already damaged?”

“Fred fell off the ladder while trying to install the thing. He probably tried to hang on to it. Can it be returned?”

“I can trade it for another game camera of the same model, but that’s pushing it.”

“No more cameras.”

“I cannot issue a refund for a product that the customer broke through mishandling. Just take the new one and sell it on eBay or something.” The clerk looked offended at her nice offer being rejected.

“Fine.”

\----

“Excuse me, young sir.” A voice broke through Bilbo’s anger as he marched home. He turned to see a rather short man with a large nose and a silver beard rushing up to him.

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.” That was odd. Bilbo had been the only customer in the store.

“Yes?” Bilbo took in his neatly pressed suit. It looked expensive, along with his leather briefcase.

“I have need of such a..a..”

“You need a game camera?” Bilbo wasn’t buying this.

“Yes, yes! My brother is an avid hunter and his birthday is in two days. I normally let my assistant get such things, but I’ve been here on an unexpected business trip. I have just enough time to get him a gift before returning home, as he will be picking me up to go out for his birthday dinner. I had intended to ask the shopkeeper for assistance, but perhaps we can help each other.”

“Oh, I see.” Bilbo felt bad. The story was definitely credible.

“I’d be willing to pay you a fair price, add in a bit for all of your trouble.” The man had an odd, knowing smile.

Bilbo squashed an urge to ask for Fred’s rent amount of $400. But he was not above getting something for his troubles. Fred would have a doctor bill as well now. He looked at the receipt.

“The price is $120, plus tax. How about $140 even? The clerk did say they’ve never had a complaint about this model.”

“An excellent price.” A fancy alligator skin wallet was pulled out and two twenties joined a crisp, new hundred dollar bill in Bilbo’s hand.

“You have my thanks, young sir. I’m sorry that we could not talk longer, but I do have a flight that I cannot miss. Do call me if you reconsider, or need anything at all.” The man secured the box under his arm before seemingly vanishing.

“I’m under too much stress.” Bilbo tucked the money in his pocket. He would pay their landlord directly. A business card with a familiar logo and writing peeked out from between the twenties.

“Benjamin Balinson.” Bilbo shook his head and pocketed the card. No, he would not reconsider, and he had Fred’s rent to pay.

\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've not been in the mood to write and forced myself to update this story. Let me know if this chapter stinks.


	6. Yet the traitor stands in worse case of men and dwarven greed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not a good time for Bilbo to tire of being a doormat. Everyone has a price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had hinted at Bilbo's difficulty with his family, but other stories have that in abundance. I thought a take on his friend would be original, and was an idea that got me writing. Enjoy the intermission.

“Here’s your money.” Bilbo dumped the money on his drowsing friend. “Use it to pay the rent or move.” He didn’t really care; it was late and Bilbo still had homework to do before even thinking about sleeping.

“This is more than I paid for the game camera.” Fred managed to sit up without much pain for a person with a supposedly debilitating back injury.

“You got lucky. Some old guy bought it.” Bilbo watched his friend drop the cash into a candy dish on the end table like it was pocket change.

“You are my lucky charm once again, Bilbo.” Fred’s smile was infuriating. Both of them would be evicted at this rate.

“Get a job or get out, Fred.” Bilbo tossed a business card on the couch. “This guy is desperate for an intern, if you’re willing to teach. Board and lodging are paid for as well as a European vacation in the summer.”

“There’s leftover pizza in the…” Slam went Bilbo’s door before Fred could finish. He shrugged and picked up the card.

“Try to be nice to a guy and get nothing as thanks. Try to look out for a friend whose family no one else can stand, and what do I get? A business card.” Fred moaned and groaned a few minutes as he tried to get comfortable again. If he played the volume up a little, well…Bilbo answered with a few door bangs, a floor thump, and then silence.

“Erecorp? Hmm. Nice international umbrella corporation.” Fred was proud of the limited knowledge he was learning in his business classes. Well, one class; the one with the drop dead gorgeous professor. He hummed and thought fondly of her as he dialed the number. Perhaps she would be impressed if he showed an interest in teaching.

“Erecorp, Inc. Human Resources Department. Benjamin Balinson’s office. This is Braedon Bofurson speaking. How may I help you today?” A cheerful man’s voice with an unusual accent blared loudly in Fred’s ear.

“This is Erecorp, Inc.?” Fred had learned to be skeptical early in life. “THE Erecorp, Inc.?”

“This is indeed Erecorp, Inc. Human Resources Department. Benjamin Balinson’s office to be precise. How many I, Braedon Bofurson, help you today, good sir?” The cheery voice once again clipped the parts of the names into separate sentences.

“That’s an odd name.” Fred had never encountered such a personality. “It is impossible to contact Erecorp directly.”

“My given name is a decent one meaning brave. My father’s name is good enough for me as well. The correct name for this fine corporation is Erecorp, Inc., good sir. You have reached our Human Resources Department, specifically Benjamin Balinson’s office. How may I help you, assuming that your call is Human Resources related? Perhaps you need the Public Affairs Department? I could transfer you there to Bradley Bofurson in a jiffy.”

“Erecorp is a family business, huh?” Fred couldn’t think of one smart remark for the first time in his life.

“Something like that. My specific family is designated for Reception Services. We are ever cheerful and polite, perfect for dealing with incoming calls and visitors from around the world. Speaking of which, I’ve five calls on hold past the allowance time. Please state your business or needs, good sir, or I must end this call and block your phone’s access to our phone network. Mr. Balinson is a very busy person and cannot afford to have me miss any of his calls.”

Braedon was as cheerful at the end as he was at the beginning. That wasn’t natural. Fred would hang up, except his back pain flared with a groan.

“Do you need medical assistance, good sir? I can connect you with your local Emergency Medical Services.” The blaring voice was even louder with genuine concern.

“I saw the doctor this morning. I was calling about the teaching internship. I hurt my back and need a job that pays the rent.”

“Ah, the botanist internship. You just missed Mr. Balinson. His jet took off six minutes ago and he is on free time with his family for another forty-seven hours and fifty-four minutes. I will gladly take down your information and give it to him in fifty-two hours. Your name please, sir.”

Fred shook his head over this weird conversation. “Bilbo’s the budding botanist. He gave me this card saying to get a job or I’m evicted. Frederick Moreau is the name, finance is my game.” Perhaps a glitzy financial advisor, or whatever, internship would wow his professor into coming with him to Europe. Anyway, finance sounded better than plain business, didn’t it?

“Did you say Bilbo? Not Bilbo Baginski by chance?” The voice became rather shrill.

“He’s my roommate who is threatening to evict me, yes. I’ve a back injury and wish to apply for a financial internship with Erecorp, Inc. Can you help me or not Mr. Bofurson?”

“It’s a shame, it is. Mr. Balinson was personally sent specifically to…”

“I could help convince Bilbo to take the botanist internship. He does need the financial help, with his aging parents and all. He’s awfully worried about paying them back.” Fred began in his sympathy voice.

“You don’t say?” Braedon seemed quite fascinated for someone who had a bunch of important clients on hold. “You are both in such straights, yet you worry so for him. An admirable friend you sound to be, Mr. Moreau.”

“Please call me Fred, Braedon. I’ve been very worried, what with that dwarf following…” Fred couldn’t believe this bleeding heart actually existed.

“Did you say dwarf?” Braedon’s voice chocked.

“I did. Will you be filling out my internship information for Mr. Balinson now?” Fred wondered what turned the ever cheerful voice into a panic.

“Another of our associates would gladly come out to interview you, Mr. Moreau. I’ll make the arrangements right away.” Braedon’s voice was still strangled, accompanied by loud keyboard banging.

“That’s it?” Fred heard warning bells again.

“My apologies, but Mr. Balinson is on his earned free time and cannot turn his jet around. I’m arranging now with our Financial Services division. Mr. Glen Gloinson may be available if we can arrange passage with one of our public airlines. He’s not gonna like that, but business is business. Know what I mean?”

“Not really.”

“In the meantime, would you consent to answering a few questions for a Sighting claim?”

“Sighting claim? Erecorp, Inc. is the parent company of the studio that puts on that batty Sightings show?” The show was terrible, but everyone knew of it and the thousand dollar reward for claims that actually made it on the show.

"You could say that. A necessary evil, some think.” Braedon had definitely lost his cheery disposition.

“I don’t want my name associated with that show.” Fred did have standards, even if they were lower than sea level.

“I can guarantee that this will remain confidential. You are Bilbo Baginski’s roommate?”

“I got the card that your boss gave Bilbo, didn’t I? Should I put Bilbo on the line? Do I get the thousand dollars?”

“I’m in Reception Services. Assigned to the Human Resources Department. I cannot authorize any financial transactions. Shall we fill out the form, Mr. Moreau?”

“Yes, please. The name is Frederick Moreau. I had a fourth level encounter with a dwarf.” Everyone knew that the Sightings show stole from the Hynek UFO encounter chart.

“Date and location of occurrence?” Braedon Bofurson was not doing very well as it sounded like his entire desk was dumped onto the floor, though the keyboard clacking continued.

“October 22. Gamgee’s Grocery Store. The cur gave me a black eye and stuffed me into a freezer compartment. I already checked with the store. Apparently shoplifters aren’t fond of stuffing frozen foods up their shirt and try for baby formula and laundry detergent instead. There was no in store camera in that area.”

“I see.” Rapid typing.

“That’s why I got a game camera, though Bilbo doesn’t appreciate me in the least. I figured no one with a heat signature could escape an infrared camera. That’s how I hurt my back; my ladder collapsed even though I had it on a level concrete surface.”

“I see.” The typing stopped, though there were hurried whispers.

“No, you don’t see. If this thing is one of your pet projects gone wild, I will get it on camera and I will not just be submitting it to that show of yours for a measly thousand dollars.” Bilbo was indeed Fred’s lucky charm today.

“Mr. Gloinson has been successfully contacted. An airline flight is being scheduled as we speak. Thank you for filling out a Sighting claim. You will hear back from us shortly. Thank you for calling Erecorp, Inc.” The line went dead. Fred dialed the number of a fancy electronics store owned in some way by Erecorp, Inc. He suddenly had an urge to buy their best camera using Bilbo’s emergency credit card. That should get results.

\----

Bilbo ignored Fred’s incessant chatter as he reviewed for a quiz the next day. It was not long before he was nodding off at his desk.

“Luck wearer.” The whispered words barely roused Bilbo as he found himself on his bed, falling instantly back to sleep.

“Bilbo.” A hand smoothed Bilbo’s curls as sharp ears caught every word that Fred spoke. He barely kept from fisting the curls in fury. This nuisance was harder to fend off than Bilbo’s family, but no one would separate him from his treasure, no one.


	7. Affliction is enamoured with Bilbo.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred really deserves his comuppance. Bilbo's mysterious shadow helps yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squeamish warning for medical terminology and events. Nothing graphic.

**“** What is pyelonephritis?” Bilbo wanted to glare at the too young looking doctor.

“You have a UTI that has traveled up to your bladder and kidneys.” The doctor couldn’t be more than a year older than Bilbo, who was barely nineteen. This is what he got for going to the student health center. But his own family doctor was back home, and he had not had the need to find a new doctor in the city until this morning. That was when red specks of blood joined his morning trip to the bathroom.

“UT what?” Bilbo was missing his first class of the day for a babbler.

“A urinary tract infection moved to your kidneys. I’m surprised that you haven’t had any pain.”

“Oh. Just a low fever.” Bilbo had been able to grab the last early morning same day appointment with the mention of the word blood. He’d had no idea that his symptoms warranted the priority treatment.

“Do you have a local pharmacy? You listed a pharmacy in Hobville. I will call in an antibiotic and something for symptoms. You can take the OTC medicine of your choice for pain.”

“OTC?” Bilbo had spent more time filling out paperwork than he had spent with the doctor.

“You can take Tylensospensive or MothanIcanafford. Did the nurse take your temperature?” The doctor scanned Bilbo’s chart for probably the first time, then reached for a thermometer wand attached to a box on the wall.

“The campus pharmacy is fine. I have the university health insurance.” Bilbo’s brain cleared away its acronym induced confusion.

“Excellent. They will be ready for pickup in twenty minutes. Do you have any drug allergies?” At least the doctor didn’t pretend to know Bilbo by calling him William.

“I’m of hobbit descent. No sulfa medicines, please.” Bilbo didn’t feel like being violently ill to his stomach. He knew that he had put that clearly on his paperwork.

“OHHH…Ok…Well, let’s…Give me a moment to change a thing or two.” The doctor typed away on his laptop, his back turned. When he looked at Bilbo again, he peered at him like a lab rat. “All taken care of. I’m afraid that the insurance formulary doesn’t cover beyond basic antibiotics. Keflen is good as a broad spectrum antibiotic. It’s expensive, but I think that the urine culture will confirm that it is what will work nicely. We will call in two to three days to let you know of the results.”

“What’s wrong with penicillin?” Bilbo once again wondered if he was being bamboozled because of his heritage.

“I find that it is less effective with infections beyond the UTI phase. I can prescribe it, but you may still need the Keflen anyway. It’s your money.” At least the doctor had the decency to look and sound honestly concerned.

“The Keflen is fine.” Bilbo sigh.

“Hobbit descent, you say. Interesting. Is that what makes you have a high pain tolerance, if I may ask?”

“No.” Bilbo cringed at the thought of three of his aunts who loved to recount their aches and pains to anyone who would listen.

“Interesting.” The doctor gave instructions to the lab downstairs and rushed out. Bilbo sighed again and went to donate bodily fluid for his lab culture. What a joyful day!

\----

“Keflen, 500 mg dosage. Take one pill twice a day with food. Risolel, 10 mg dosage. Take one pill three times a day as long as symptoms persist.” The bored pharmacy technician rang up the purchase of the two medicines on the register. Bilbo already had the name brand pain medicine at home thanks to Fred. “That will be $113.00. Do you want a pharmacist consultation?”

“How much is the generic?” Bilbo gritted his teeth.

“Seven dollars, but it isn’t approved for those like you.”

“Like me?” Bilbo counted to ten.

“Yeah, your tainted blood. The companies that make generics don’t test their medicines on mixed race subjects to save money. Sorry, but that’s business for you.” The woman didn’t look at all sorry.

“Here.” Bilbo reluctantly pulled out his emergency credit card. His parents would understand. He had only received two paychecks from his new job so far.

“The computer is saying that you are over your limit.” The card was handed back to Bilbo as the bag of medicines was plopped in a plastic bin on a back counter.

Bilbo was confused. The card had a $500 limit and he had only charged the doctor office copay of $25 on it.

“We’ll hold your prescriptions for 24 hours. Next in line please.” Bilbo and his confusion were dismissed.

Once outside of the medical arts building, Bilbo perked up a bit. He caught a campus bus right away. He would only miss half of his first class. James would gladly let Bilbo copy his lecture notes. At least this wasn't their scheduled lab day. It would be nice to just sit for a bit, Bilbo was rather tired.

As for the medicine, Bilbo wasn’t in any real pain. He could afford to go to class and then call the credit card company before going to work. Hopefully they could correct his account by tomorrow morning. If not, cranberry juice was hailed as a miracle cure, wasn’t it?

“Hey, you dropped this.” A girl with an overstuffed backpack picked something white up off the floor by Bilbo’s feet. She threw it in his lap and rushed to get off at her stop.

“It’s not! I just…” Bilbo watched her disappear in a throng of people headed into a science building. Probably a psyc class or something; Bilbo had heard that an intro class could have four hundred people in it. He looked down at the bag and froze.

The bag was Bilbo’s. His name was clearly printed on the bag’s label. It was stapled shut with a receipt that assured him that it was paid for. Bilbo looked around, but no one was looking back. He opened the bag to reveal two medicine bottles and a bubblegum flavored red lollipop, his favorite.

Bilbo got off the bus, clutching the bag to his chest. He didn’t know whether to feel gratitude or to be afraid. No one but his mother knew his like for the silly sweets, no one.

\----

“Now Bilbo, you have to understand that I had what’s best for you in mind.” Fred backed away from the kitchen table as Bilbo stormed in.

“Buying a prescription is what was best for me, and my card was over the limit. I wonder why.” Bilbo’s face was red. He had lasted through only the second class of the day before he began to feel a dull pain in his back. A check of symptoms at the library had said that one could have back pain with a kidney infection. He had faithfully taken both medicines with lunch.

“I needed to use your card to…”

“I needed the card. I didn’t appreciate having my credit card turned down in the pharmacy just to be told by the card company that I’m the proud owner of this pile of junk.” Bilbo looked at the smashed remains of an expensive looking game camera on the table.  “What happened to it, anyway?”

“It was delivered by express mail this morning.” Fred looked ashamed as Bilbo waved the medicine bottles in his face. He wisely did NOT make a joke about how Bilbo was able to get the medicine anyway. “I unpacked the camera and set it on the kitchen counter. When I went into my room for something I heard a crash. I came out to this mess all over the floor.”

“My office visit copay sent my card over the limit. I’m being charged a $38 fee for that, plus a $25 fee for automatically being approved for an increased credit limit which I can’t refuse. Don’t even DARE say the limit increase solves my problems, Fred! You went over my original $500 limit PLUS the new limit.” Bilbo looked over the expensive mess and plopped in a chair. “What am I going to do, Fred? I can’t pay the balance off in thirty days.”

“You don’t look so good, Bilbo.” Fred’s face was scrunched up in concern. Bilbo pushed his hand away as he tried to feel Bilbo’s forehead.

“Just get me a glass of water and some of the aspirin.”

“I…I used the aspirin for my back.” Fred turned red and looked at the floor.

“There was half a bottle left!” Bilbo wanted to cry. This was too much, just too much.

“Don’t cry, Bilbo. I’ll go out and get you some. Maybe Mr. Baxter next door has something I can borrow. Huh?” Fred knocked half of the broken camera parts on the floor in his rush to get to Bilbo’s side.

“I’m not crying! No, just…”

“Would you like some soup or something? I heated up a can of vegetable soup earlier.”

“I’m not hungry. I just need to rest for an hour or two before work.” Bilbo felt nauseous enough to suspect that Keflen was a sulfa drug.

“You should call off. You look awful, Bilbo.” Fred cringed as soon as the words were spoken.

“I CANNOT call off. I have to pay for your stupidity, Fred.” Bilbo’s roar came out as a whine. “I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day. Clean this mess up before I get up.”

“Ok.” Fred slid into a seat with a whisper. “I’m really sorry, Bilbo. I did call about that internship.”

“Good for you. Now get out of my life!” Bilbo managed a shout, then winched in pain and headed for his room.

\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on basic research and experiences of people I have known. I also gave Bilbo my reaction to sulfa drugs. Please do not get medically picky. Other authors do a much better job if medical accuracy is what you like in your stories.


	8. Some are born great...and others have Thorin thrust upon them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo wakes up to find that his internal priorities are all messed up. He also has a rather suffocating new best friend, whether he wants one or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a slow chapter, as Bilbo is rather muzzy headed.

“Oin says that a culture must grow before he can read the lab results”. Braedon’s yawn broke off any more words. Only part of his whole body stretch was visible on the laptop’s monitor. “What time is it there, anyway?”

“Bilbo is ill. This Kalven…whatever…is not helping him. He still has a fever and moans in pain.

“Keflen, a broad spectrum antibiotic prescribed in one of two dosages…” Braedon’s room was dark, lit only by his own laptop. “By the way, your father was notified of your spending Erebor funds without authorization.”

“I told you to wipe all of my communications records clean each day, twice a day even.” A low growl was followed by a fist almost hitting the laptop that brightened the closet in Bilbo’s room.

“I warned you before; I can track communications, not finances. You should have spent the last year cozying up to Glen, not me, if you wanted to go on a shopping spree.”

“Glen is older than Benjamin! He’s as loyal to my father as Dwalin is to me.”

“By the way, your father just ordered Dwalin to retrieve you.”

“No one leaves Erebor, ever. That’s what you and your kin are for.”

“You left, didn’t you?” Braedon’s smirk wasn’t lost in the dark.

“And Dwalin is going to be rather mad at the idea of spending ten days in quarantine, twenty someone sneezes on him.”

“Then I’d advise you not to get caught. Let me tell him that you are coming home with Glen.”

“I can’t, Braedon. He needs me. You wouldn’t believe the family that he has; I spend two hours a day just keeping their phone calls from bothering Bilbo. He was almost hit by a car!”

“He’s not yours. His name is William Baginski, Junior. Those are not your memories. Those people in those memories are not the two of you.”

“Fred?” Bilbo’s voice was muffled as it traveled through the door.

“Just make certain that Oin reads those test results himself as soon as possible. I have to go.”

\----

Bilbo sat up with a start as he turned off his phone’s alarm. He had been dreaming that his father held him once again in a firm hug, yet it had been terrifying. Bilbo had been standing by the lamppost that the sports car had hit.  His father was keeping him from getting out of the way as that same car headed for the pole on purpose this time.

“Are you dizzy?” Bilbo’s mother’s voice echoed even as he shook his head to clear it. She sat in her favorite chair, holding her knitting, too dizzy to continue it.

“You are dizzy. Don’t get up. Drink this.” Donna’s voice changed to a low male voice. It was definitely a male hand that held up a glass of water.

“Thank you, I…” It took a moment for self-preservation to push ingrained manners out of the way on its headlong flight for life. Bilbo froze. He was in bed in a corner of the room. A bearded stranger in black clothes and a black cloak sat between Bilbo and the door and the windows.

“It’s dark out! I’m late for work!” Bilbo’s sense of duty ran over his self-preservation.

“I changed your alarm time for when you needed more of this.” The stranger held out a bottle of non-aspirin pain reliever. “The pharmacist said that it won’t bother your stomach, but you need to take it sooner than those other medicines.” A beard bead flung from side to side as he recalled the sheer number of medicine options.

“You bought me medicine?” Bilbo stared in disbelief.

“I did not know which was safe for you, so I asked at the store. It has not broken the fever, but you rested more quietly for a few hours.” The stranger looked at the floor in shame. “I did not want to wake you to ask what to buy.”

“My shift was over two hours ago.” Bilbo picked up his phone. “I slept all afternoon and evening.”

“I doubt you remember my giving you the Tylesomething and I followed the directions precisely on your Rizzolee prescription. You will need to eat before taking your next dose of Kefkelven. Would you like some soup?”

“I need to call my boss.” Bilbo did not know what to think.

“Oin called them. He said that you will be off for another day at least. They said that they understand.” The water was offered again with all three bottles of medicine.

“Oin?”

“My doctor.”

“I don’t believe this.” Bilbo nearly knocked over his touch lamp trying to get it to shine brighter. He stared at a face with bright blue eyes, and by the lack of wrinkles and the still sparse beard, its owner wasn’t much older than Bilbo himself. Dark hair was braided back with golden clasps that glinted in the weak light. A defined chin was decorated with a carefully braided beard about as long as Bilbo’s hand.

“I tried to tell Braedon to get Oin on the line, but the old bastard refuses to use Skytattle. It’s only an hour or two before sunrise at home. It can’t be that difficult to get up a bit early for once.” The voice was deep, but the words sounded just like Bilbo’s slightly younger cousins. “I tried to explain how this Kefven is not helping you and…”

“You’re Fred’s dwarf.”

“I’m my own person! No idiot owns me!” Definitely a teenager, though Bilbo would wholeheartedly agree with his assessment of Fred.

“You are a dwarf? I’m not having a fever dream?”

“I’m a dwarf, and you still have a fever.” A cool hand felt Bilbo’s head. “Take your medicine and I will bring you some crackers and ginger ale, whatever that fizzy stuff is. The pharmacist recommended it.”

Bilbo stared at the retreating figure, unused to anyone being so helpful unless they were his parents, and with them it was a given. He did the only thing that he could think to do, and gulped down his medicine with water flavored with real lemon juice. After all, who would do all this to help him if they wanted to harm him? That idea was more insane than the idea of waking up to a personal dwarf valet.

\----

“Would you like honey on your crackers, Bilbo? Oin has often touted its healing properties.” The dwarf just sat at Bilbo’s desk, watching Bilbo eat crackers and drink soda brought on a metal tray with folding legs. He had even included a plate and a fancy folded napkin.

“What is your name?” Bilbo decided to test the waters of his chances of survival. Hopefully this dwarf wasn’t insane or whatever.

“My name?” The dwarf looked genuinely surprised. “No one has ever asked that of me before. Everyone has always…”

“Do you have one? Or did you get hit on the head and have amnesia or something? Are you lost?” Bilbo ignored the prideful glare.

“My name is, you could call it rather complex. You may call me Thorin.” The dwarf puffed up, waiting.

Bilbo had never heard of such a name before, but he was not one to prick the easily deflated pride of a youngster. “It’s a good name, I like it. I’m very glad to have made your acquaintance, Thorin.”

Thorin seemed to waiver in how to respond for a moment or two, then smiled brightly and accepted Bilbo’s rather weak handshake. He was quite tired suddenly.

“A side effect of the Rizdolez is possible drowsiness. I’ll leave you to rest.” Thorin actually pushed Bilbo back into bed and tucked the blankets around him.

“Is Fred home? Don’t hurt him, he is rather decent somewhere in all that…”

“I will not harm your friend in your home. He will not notice me.” Thorin pulled his cloak hood up over his face and disappeared. Then the light turned itself down to a low level. “Sleep now. Fred is taking care of himself. Do not worry.”

“I have homework to do.” Bilbo didn’t manage to rise six inches. This dwarf did not yet have the bulk that even Mr. Balinson had had, but his grip spoke of controlled power.

“You will rest for tonight and tomorrow.” The voice would brook no argument as it suddenly sounded as if it was used to being obeyed. This was quite the change from the almost timid tone it had held.

“Could you get my quilt, in the closet?” Bilbo yawned.

“Of course.”

Bilbo was soon covered by a quilt smelling rather like a certain dwarf. Had he been sleeping in Bilbo’s closet? He managed a chuckle before drifting off.

\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I delete these past two chapters? This is what I get from writing instead of sleeping. Let me know what you think: Should Thorin keep his beard braid or should I rewrite it with it short?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin will not lose his treasure!

“Do I qualify for a scholarship?” Fred sat at a table in the local coffee shop. He had felt apprehensive about anyone associated with dwarves. Meeting the short man with an enormous red beard had not soothed his fears. Glen must have been at least half dwarf, with his being barely taller than the hobbitish Bilbo and his bulky frame.

Glen downed his third container of hot chocolate, of all things, as he scrolled down the pages on his laptop. “You should be a junior by now, yet you barely made sophomore standing this semester. I see a lack of focus. How did you manage to almost fail all of your classes this past spring? You only took three.” 

“It was a busy time.” Fred began to squirm, though he was taller than this man even when seated. 

“Why weren’t you busy studying?” Glen’s expression reminded Fred of his father, just before his financial assistance was cut off.

“Girl troubles. You know. They’re never satisfied.” Fred waved his hand at the frivolities of girls.

 “No, I don’t know. Tell me.”

 “My girlfriend always complained that I never paid attention to her. Then I lost my apartment when my roommate married her. Then my family ended my allowance. I stayed over at the campus library when I could, then I slept on friends couches this past summer. I managed to get a job and saved up enough to get a place with Bilbo this fall. He took a chance with a loser and I won’t let him down.”

 “Who stole his credit card?” Glen put down his cup and looked directly into Fred’s face.

 “I borrowed it. Bilbo needs protected. Can’t you see why I won’t let him down?” Fred felt his desperation redden his face.

 “Quite misguided, I would say. You would benefit from solid guidance, young man.” Glen tapped his lips with a finger as he scrolled up and down on his laptop. “Why should I authorize a college education that will cost Erecorp, Inc. tens of thousands of dollars?”

 “I want to learn. I want what I do to make a difference.”

 “We’re not a charity. We also have people born with more financial sense than you have, along with a moral compass and honor. I would suggest that you join the Peace Corps., Mr. Moreau.”

 “I have Bilbo Baginski’s ear, while your Benjamin Balinson does not.” Fred wished that his voice had a ring of authority like his father’s did.

 “Blackmail may have worked on a receptionist…” Glen chuckled. He often stood in the presence of a king. “It got me here, on a commercial flight no less. It won’t convince me to just give away hard earned money.”

 “It wasn’t blackmail! Bilbo is being stalked by a dwarf. We need help. We need…”

 “I read the report, thank you. Everything is in hand.” Glen put his laptop away. “Thorin will not hurt your friend.”

 “Thorin?” Now Fred looked rather confused. “You knew about him all along?”

 “Just a misguided youngster, much like yourself, Mr. Moreau. Your loyalty to a friend is admirable, as am I impressed with the lengths you will go to when your heart is in something.”

 “I got a scholarship?” Fred’s worry and elation battled to control his face.

 “Maybe. I’ll give you a chance, just one. Pass your current class with an A, not an A- or a B+. Once you do that, I’ll email your travel itinerary. I’m willing to spend a small sum on job skills testing. Then we will see what area you fit best into, and where Erecorp, Inc. will be needing fresh blood. If all goes well, you may start Fall semester with a single dorm room and a full schedule.”

 “An A, but it’s well past midterms.” Fred paled. “I still need to find a job.”

 “I’m demanding, but not heartless. If my plans are approved, you will receive a one time deposit into your bank account in two days. It will cover rent until June. You will also pay back Mr. Baginski, with interest. Do we have an understanding, Mr. Moreau?” Glen stood and held out a hand. His eyes and expression spoke of more than Fred’s welfare.

 “I’ll keep myself occupied with school.” Fred held out his own hand.

 “You do that.” Glen put down a twenty to cover the bill and walked out.

 ----

 Dwalin was furious as he scoped out the house and its surroundings. He had been literally tossed out of his home because of a youngster barely into his beard. It wasn’t his fault that Thorin was thirty years younger than Balin and himself. It hadn’t been planned that way, for the heir to be raised without any cousins his age. Erebor was still reeling from the destructive madness of a king decades later.

 The back door was easy to unlock, if one had the right tools. Dwalin roamed the house, assured that Glen was keeping the irritating friend away. He knew his mission, he had that one hour to neutralize his charge and remove any evidence of a dwarf being here. Dwalin went straight to Bilbo’s room. Best to face his quarry head on.

 “I won’t go.” Theo’s voice and a hand stopped Dwalin short in the doorway.

 “I’ve my orders, Theo.”

 “That’s not my name.”

 “Thorin Epsilon One, Theo is your acronym until you come of age. It is that way for all of us, Theo. You are just having a bit of trouble with prior life memories. We all go through it. Come home where we can help you.”

 “Bilbo calls me Thorin.”

 “Your friend is William Baginski, Junior. You are messing with his life, Theo. It’s time to go.”

 “Bilbo needs me. I won’t go without him. He needs his medicine in an hour.” Thorin appeared out of nowhere and sat on the bed next to a sleeping Bilbo. “He is very ill.”

“Your father ordered me to bring you back, alone.” Dwalin’s brows furrowed. He had seen this youngster stubborn or upset plenty of times, but never so agitated.

 “My father was an alpha generation dwarf who died centuries.” Thorin growled.

 “Which is why you’re drowning in memories not your own. You’ve not had the benefit of peers your age, Theo, but you do have family. Come home, let us help you.”

 “Family bred for the real son of our dear king.” Thorin spat and turned on Dwalin. “This is Bilbo and I’m Thorin.”

 “You and I are both replaceable, Theo. Never forget that.” Dwalin held something in his hand, heading straight for the bed. He had always preferred simple clashes to war of words.

 “Thorin.” Bilbo mumbled feverishly. The young dwarf turned his attention for an instant. In that instant Dwalin struck. Thorin fell to the floor with a whimper.

“I’m sorry, lad, but I have to take you back.” Dwalin opened a case of syringes. “You’ll wake safe and sound at home, where we can help you. You won’t remember a thing of this escapade.”

 “No!” Thorin screamed. To be taken back home was one thing, to be robbed of even the memory of being with Bilbo, to be robbed of his real memories. It was too much.

 Dwalin looked at the knife in his bicep with disbelief, just as his own dagger sent Thorin to the floor.

\----

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is on his way to a new adventure. Dwalin finds a two for one sale!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll add chapter titles later. Enjoy Bilbo's confusion.

Bilbo woke to the sound of beeping. He stretched and yawned, wrinkling his nose at the antiseptic smell of the room.

“It’s good to see that you are awake.” The familiar form of Benjamin Balinson sat in a nearby chair.

“Where am I? Where are Mom and Dad?” His parents never left him alone in a hospital.

“Harlond City General. You were admitted late this morning. I just arrived an hour ago myself. It’s nearly six p.m.”

“Why am I here? I was at home in bed.” Where is Thorin? Was he a dream?

“You are very sick, Mr. Baginski. Do you recall nothing of them trying to bring down your fever? It didn’t break until this afternoon, I’m told.” Benjamin stood and smiled as he took Bilbo’s hand.

“No. Nothing.” His mind was a blank. “Where are my parents?”

“I would have arranged a car to bring them, but your mother is ill and your father is unwilling to leave her alone. The doctors spoke to them on Skytattle. They were quite relieved to hear that your fever broke. They had no idea that you were sick.”

“I just had an infection, a bit of blood in my…” Bilbo looked at the tubes coming out of him. One was full of a red tinted liquid.

“An infection that nearly sent you into renal failure. Don’t worry; you’ll receive proper care when you are transferred to Gray Havens Medical Center.”

“No. Frogmorton General will be fine. They know how to treat those of mixed decent.” Bilbo shook his head. He wanted his parents near.

“Gray Havens Medical Center is the world leader in such cases. The very latest medical breakthroughs come from there.” Benjamin tried to pet his hair.

“I want my mother! Why are you here?” Bilbo was howling now. He knew he was being irrational, but he couldn’t help it.

“My brother was called here on a matter of security, and I was sent to assist him in any way that I could. We felt that you wouldn’t want to wake up alone in a strange place.” Bilbo’s hair was petted anyway as Benjamin made shushing noises.

“Where’s Fred? What have you done to him?”

“He has been debriefed and sent home. He was quite shaken up, but will be fine.” Benjamin’s smile was sincere, but still odd.

“What happened?” Bilbo was getting fed up.

“Your friend found you when he got home and called an ambulance. It took some convincing to send him home for the evening.” Why was that hard to believe on such a sincere face?

“Where is Thorin?” Bilbo had better get an answer soon.

“You’re not twenty-one yet, but your parents agreed to assign a guardian for your healthcare needs. He will travel with you; his name…” Benjamin Balinson was full of crap.

“I’m old enough to say no. I’m not going to Gray Havens.” Bilbo had never even heard of such an esteemed place. Why? He was not an isolated individual. Nope, not going.

“Your mind is not thinking clearly. You’ve been assigned a guardian until further notice.” Bad choice of words, Benjamin.

“Where is Thorin? Last chance before I scream.”

“Nori warned us that the medicines needed to treat you might interfere with the memory inhibitor.” Benjamin visibly gave up on whatever scheme he had.

“Unlike you, Thorin is my friend. Where is he?”

“In the recovery room. He was in surgery for several hours. My brother and I will take him home as soon as a medical flight arrives at Minas Tirith airport.

“Where is home?” Bilbo felt sick, unable to recall anything related to this news.

“You must understand. Thorin is himself underage. He is going home to his father in Erebor. You might call this an escapade by a young teenager wanting to see the world.”

“Thorin is the reason that you offered me the scholarship.”

“Partially, yes. We did hope to lure Thorin back home unharmed if you had agreed to come this summer. But we also need experts in areas such as the ones that you have an interest in. We thought it a good match for all of us.” Benjamin could see that he had better deal openly with Bilbo. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve nowhere to be.” Bilbo waved his I.V. taped hands. He counted three bags of medicine and whatever else dripping into him.

“It’s not my story to tell. You should rest now. Your guardian will be in when they arrange for your transfer. I’m sorry, Mr. Baginski, but you are also underage and must follow your parent’s wishes. Please be comforted in that your bill will be covered by Erecorp, Inc. We are sorry that your life has been so interrupted.” Benjamin petted Bilbo’s hair a last time and left the room.

\----

“What do you mean I can escort an underage dwarf, but not a human?” A bellow woke Bilbo out of a sound sleep. He felt the odd sensation of being drugged up. It was not pleasant. He wanted to go home to a hospital that could properly medicate him.

“You are both property of Erecorp, Inc. and instructions from…”

“I’ve got new instructions. Here’s a fax copy of new guardian forms signed by the boy’s parents not an hour ago. I’ve got a medical transport plane waiting on the tarmac at Minas Tirith airport costing a fortune each hour it is parked there. It holds two stretchers for two patients and I’m gonna fill it with two patients. Now give me the blasted transfer papers!”

“William Baginski is going to Gray Havens Medical Center on a flight in the morning.”

“Whatever. I’ve got William Baginski, Junior going with me. Pack him up for transport!”

“Goodness.” A nurse that had been changing Bilbo’s I.V. bags shook her head.

“Are you ready to go, kid?” What could only be a dwarf marched into the room. He had a bandaged arm in a sling.

“With Thorin?” Bilbo took in the wild mohawk.

“Already on the plane.”

“Yes.”

Bilbo didn’t know what had changed, but a team of nurses came in with a stretcher. He was gently lifted by a sheet onto it with his I.V.s. One nurse carefully freed him of his monitors and attached him to ones in a pile between his legs.

The ambulance ride was quick, with sirens blaring and the dwarf sitting next to him. Soon he found himself transferred to a metal stretcher that was loaded onto a plane with propeller engines. Its lights flashed urgently in the dark night.

“About time.” Another short man who looked remarkably similar to the dwarf who had introduced himself as Dwalin took a seat and buckled up.

“Mind your own business, Daniel.” The dwarf was definitely ready to leave and threw himself into a seat. “Your brother had better have gotten that paperwork right.”

“Doesn’t he always? Benjamin’s a wiz with forgery. You do realize that this is basically kidnapping?” An unconcerned grunt answered him as Dwalin managed to buckle up one handed.

Bilbo saw that the plane was segmented. The right side had two spots to hold stretchers. The left side had four passenger seats. He saw a blanketed form in the first spot. He was put in the spot in the back of the plane.

“I’ve never flown before.” Bilbo managed as the two uniformed flight nurses settled him in. He was buckled to the stretcher by three belts. The plane had a car type seatbelt covering his waist and shoulder as a second buckled around his legs. Trapped was barely the word to accurately describe his anxiety.

“Don’t worry; we’ll take good care of you. You’ll be home soon enough.” The flight nurse smiled as he settled Bilbo’s plethora of medical equipment. Bilbo did not feel comforted when the flight nurses took their own seats.

As Bilbo watched lights flash by and had the sudden feeling of leaving the runway he began to wonder. Where was he going? Would he ever see home or his parents ever again?

\----


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin feels like he has lost both of his best friends.

Thorin woke as the hum that had surrounded him changed to a whine. He shifted slightly as he felt something surprising, turbulence as a plane descended. His escape from Erebor had entailed flights on several types of planes, enabling him to recognize a smaller aircraft. Cracking open his eyes showed a vague propeller engine outline in the dark. Pilots voices spoke in a mumble as the whine increased and the plane landed with a light thump.

The roar of the engines power reversed to slow the plane just as Thorin’s memories flooded back. He had hurt his closest mentor. Bilbo was surely lost as well. He heard a beeping sound increase with the pounding in his chest.

“It’s alright. We’ve just landed safely. There is nothing to worry about.” A woman in a blue one piece uniform with colorful patches put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get you unloaded in a few minutes.”

“I need to…” Thorin raised his head enough to look around. He was trapped; his journey had come to a rotten, miserable end. Dwalin, arm in a sling, was snoring away in the farthest seat as one of his kin sat looking out the window. Daniel’s face wore a terrified expression as white knuckles gripping the arm rests. Thorin himself was on a stretcher. Thick blue bands with real metal locking buckles on his wrists were tied down by equally thick ties with their own locks. His ankles were similarly encased in red bands, with no less than five stretcher belts across his body.

“No. No. No.” Thorin felt himself begin to cry, tears falling freely. His chest hurt, bandaged tight. He had no energy to bellow in anger, barely managing to rock from side to side as his head lay flat again.

“The pain medicine makes you a bit disoriented.” The woman resettled his nasal oxygen line. It felt like a noose even if she barely tightened it under his chin.

“Disoriented.” Thorin repeated, easily distracted as he was lost in thought. Would he be coming home? Would they still consider him a child, or were they keeping him alive to keep his memory and genetics in pristine condition? Would his successor remember Bilbo? Would the so burdened young man be cared for?

After being given his first security clearance to Erebor’s mainframe, Thorin had stumbled upon Bilbo by chance during a late night search when he was bored. A Noseybook account posting had come up on an impromptu search for anyone named Bilbo, unlikely as it was. No official names turned up on Thorin’s cleared level searches. Curiosity of the system’s ins and outs had led him to hacking up to Bofurson level clearance, but no more. It had been enough, showing Thorin the single posting and getting Braedon Bofurson’s attention.

Thorin had only meant to pull a prank, hacking into the college student’s Wi-Fi. It had been fun to mess with his computer; Bilbo had seemed so unhappy when he read the foolish name website and needed cheered up with the honest truth. Any of Thorin’s laughter had been erased with Bilbo’s defeated demeanor as he went to bed.

The next day Thorin meant to casually meet Bilbo, hoping to offer to fix his laptop for free. Instead, he had trailed Bilbo like a kicked puppy, berating his rash actions. That distance had allowed Thorin to see the car first and somehow pull Bilbo out of the way.

Thorin was not certain what had happened, except a wave of concern swept through him as he discreetly checked his new friend for injuries. Everything in Erebor was controlled and predictable; nothing like a traffic accident ever happened. Thorin had never seen someone as devastated as Bilbo when he lamented his broken computer to the officer.

What had been planned as simply meeting Bilbo before Thorin saw some of the world grew into something else entirely. Thorin had never known that people were discriminated against because of the genes the dice roll of fate gave them. He had never seen someone so determined to succeed even as his own family flat out harassed the boy. Thorin had only ever seen one other person wear such a lonely, separated from the world expression, his own reflection. Now he would never be able to make Bilbo happy; Thorin was alone again.

\----

“Get up, sunshine.” Daniel shook Dwalin’s good shoulder after the scared but silent Bilbo was taken out through the cargo door. How could anyone sleep through all of that turbulence? The flight nurse had assured him that there was no storm and that it was a very smooth flight, but he would never believe it.

“Wha?” Dwalin shook himself, grimacing in pain.

“Your age is slowing you down, old man.” Daniel tried to joke. Being half human, he had aged noticeably faster than the trueblood. That they had the exact same birthday was never a joke. It was the day that the old king had gone mad and tried to destroy the nursery. Over a quarter of their generation, including the then Crown Prince’s son, had perished in the ensuing blaze.

“More like that pain medicine those men gave me made me groggy.” Dwalin had suffered second degree burns up past his elbow, scars to be added to old scars. Thorin’s ceremonial dagger had done some serious damage as well as shorting out the body suit circuitry that enabled Dwalin to be cloaked with invisibility.

“At least you’ll have an excuse for what you’ve done. Kidnapping a human, forgery, all this expense. A preservation body bag would have been cheaper. No air ambulance company wanted to transport a difficult patient AND leave no record of our travels. Now you’re paying double their highway robbery fare. The board won’t be happy.”

“They’ll be ecstatic.” Dwalin’s tongue was held only because of who Daniel was, the scars his half kin bore. It wasn’t Daniel’s fault that he was influenced by spliced human genes. All of Dwalin’s predecessors’ memories spoke of human greed. It was the only reason that Erebor or dwarves lived again.

Dwalin didn’t normally care about human currency, but he knew that fifty thousand euros spent to return a ten million euro dwarf was cheap. Upping that to one hundred thousand euros to bring that dwarf’s first and only friend home was priceless.

“Theo woke during that horrible landing.” Daniel was still green. He much preferred his day job of outer perimeter security around the mountain.

“Stay with Bilbo. Don’t let him out your sight.” Dwalin watched his own charge being prepared to leave. They had a two hour layover before the transatlantic second leg of their journey on one of Erecorp’s own jets to Orocarni International Airport. It was home to Erecorp’s international air fleet.

“Will do.” Daniel vanished as he left the plane. One of Erecorp’s own jets was needed to avoid customs officials. Bilbo had no passport and several dwarves were traveling without following the strict escort and permit rules that many European countries had. That one of those free ranging dwarves was a runaway prince was not what the Erecorp, Inc. board of directors wanted to see in the news. Sometimes Dwalin wondered if even they knew how many dwarves used Erecorp’s own technology to travel undetected.

“Theo.” Dwalin took in the tear streaked face. Theo’s young face clashed original memories of a much older and worn leader. More recent memories of being the same age still did little to prepare him for this sight. None of the dwarves had successfully reconciled the differences. None of their race that was as unchanging as the stone that they were hewn from could, and Theo had never bonded to any of his kin.

“You should have let me die.” The young dwarf muttered in Khuzdul as he looked away.

“Someone gave you the strength to live. I’ll not take that nor that someone from you. Just keep your mouth shut and cooperate so we can get home.” Dwalin growled back. As the one listed on Bilbo’s fake guardian papers, he could not disappear. It should be Daniel, who had human rights of citizenship, but Dwalin would not be able to cloak until he was healed. Balin was going to kill him, but something in Theo’s eyes made it worth it.

\----


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing more of the gang as they pitch in to help.

Balin loved his brother. Balin cherished his brother, especially when so many of their generation had lost one or all of their designated siblings and cousins. Balin was going to kill his brother with his own hands if he himself survived the king’s wrath.

“Balin, how long until I get that medical paperwork?” Oin was fretting as he prepared quarters fit for a prince in the quarantine section of the infirmary.

“Balin, we need that paperwork.” Daniel was hiding as he stayed with some human that Dwalin had apparently adopted as a pet. “Our layover was supposed to be two hours; make it less than half an hour.”

“Balin, I need that paperwork.” An overworked secretary working at this airport’s Erecorp, Inc. office was only polite because he had been bred to be such. “As I said, if you want one of our planes I need the standard five forms. If you want to sneak dwarves again, I need the three confidential forms. I can’t believe we have forms for every illegal situation imaginable.”

 “Balin, where is the King under the Mountain?” A tour guide was waiting with yet another group of millionaire tourists in self-contained suits, ready to tour Erebor.

“Balin, I need to reschedule my meeting with the board of directors.” The king cut off his transmission before Balin could remind him of his appointment to meet with the tourists.

“Balin! Where is he?” The very angry board of directors reminded Balin yet again that his king had forgotten that their meeting was to have started an hour ago and not this hour. They had also shelved general business to discuss the mess that Dwalin had made, that Balin was trying to fix. At least Dwalin hadn’t bothered him, knowing that Balin would know what was needed. Dwalin was still going to die a slow death.

“Balin, I need a plane now.” Dwalin now also joined everyone else on a screen in Erebor’s main computer room. Some customs official is trying to get past Erecorp’s security.” Balin sat at his rarely used station, pulled out a key on a necklace, and inserted it into a slot in the mainframe. Frantic typing commenced.

“Oin, I’ve no idea.” Balin’s one failure of the day was best dealt with first.

“Tour guide seven, drag your group around until you run into the king. Remind him of his meeting, if you will.” Balin cut that transmission.

“A search party has been sent out to find the king.” Balin cut the board’s transmission. Let the king handle that hell tomorrow. That would teach him not to accidentally erase Balin’s schedule making program yet again.

“You have half an hour to get my dwarves on a plane or I’ll have you doing audits of Erebor’s sludge fields until you retire to the sludge fields.” Balin cut the secretary’s transmission while bringing up a view of the secretary’s own computer and what he was doing.

“Dori.” Balin looked up as another face appeared on a screen. It was of a silver haired dwarf of the generation before Balin and Dwalin. “Have you been following this mayhem?”

“Ever since you used my override key.” Dori was immensely proud of his hacking accomplishments, though he was outwardly a most proper Ereborean dwarf. After the mad old king had been stopped, Dori had done much to bypass the system that was supposed to monitor, contain, and control dwarf activity. It helped that Balin was responsible for updating that system, the same Balin who had been Dori’s star hacking student.

“My Nori is on the scene. You’ll have access to the airport’s computer system when he does.” Dori puffed with pride. He had raised little Nori after Dori’s sibling had died trying to put out the nursery fire. Nori was the foremost computer hacker in the world. No king would have complete control of Erebor ever again.

“Hello, cousin. Hello, father.” Nori’s face appeared unbidden on a screen. He held up two official looking passports. “I believe that these should suffice.”

Dori smiled at his adopted son. “I would suggest a miner emergency form. Officials might buy a story of negligent owners shoving him on a plane without proper paperwork authorizing his return.” He shrugged, unable to think of a more plausible story. Doris were never good liars.

“A miner coming from a country that outlaws import of miners. A miner who is the assigned guardian and escort of an underage human without a passport and an unidentified underage dwarf.” Balin took over the secretary’s computer when he wasn’t working fast enough.

“I need the king’s override.” Nori didn’t look nearly as happy with this news.

“I need a king.” Balin grimaced as he was forced to order another medical flight from the company that they had just used. There was no way to let Theo’s situation become public knowledge by filling out all of the required company paperwork.

Why hadn’t Theo’s complete trip to Erebor been included in the first flight plan? Leaving a crown prince, a kidnapped human, and an injured dwarf stranded in Halifax Stanfield International Airport was not a good idea. How had they even ended up on Canada anyway?

“I have the unofficial might and approval of Erecorp, Inc.’s board of directors.” Dori put a key of his own into his workstation, wherever that was hidden in his posh clothing store and tailor shop.

“There. Dwalin has had a permit all this time, hidden by an updating glitch.” Dori sat back, well pleased.

 “The plane is being prepared. The passports are valid, you just need to fill them out, Nori.” Balin hid his key away again. “Thank you, everyone.”

“I’m too old for this.” Dori sighed.

“I’m going to kill Dwalin.” Nori cracked his knuckles.

“Is all of this worth a Crown Prince?” Balin wondered aloud. “Are we better off without a king?”

“I believe that our dear Dwalin has found something that makes Theo’s hide worth all of this trouble.” Nori smiled before ending his transmission.

“I’ll monitor their progress until they arrive.” Dori spoke after a pause. “You should find our king, Balin.”

“Aye.” Balin could think of a few uses for a king, namely facing a few human nightmares in the form of disgruntled millionaires and board members.

\----


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo makes a friend who sees the person behind the name.

Bilbo looked around the hangar in which he had been unloaded. He wasn’t met with an ambulance, but his stretcher was taken into what looked like an office annex. Daniel pushed him through a crowd of angry people in varied Erecorp, Inc. uniforms.

“Here we go.” Daniel stuck his head into what looked like an empty meeting room. Within five minutes, the short man had hacked into the room’s computer and was watching a movie.

“Sorry that I’ve got no popcorn.” Daniel sat in a chair and propped his feet up on the long table. “How are you feeling, kid?”

“The flight was scary.” The movie on the projector wall was blurry, and in a foreign language.

“What’s your name, kid?” As a part of the Ereborian security forces Daniel did have some medical training. He got up and began checking Bilbo’s equipment.

“William. But no one who knows me calls me that. Everyone else calls me Bilbo, but it’s…” Bilbo was at a loss of words to describe his odd nickname.

“I’ll call you Bill then, it’s a common enough name for a William. I’m Daniel. Nice to meet you, Bill.” Daniel shook Bilbo’s hand.

“Where are we, Daniel?” Bilbo seemed amicable enough to the impromptu friendship.

“My brother screwed up. He got us to the nearest international airport with an Erecorp, Inc. office, but that’s it. We’ll have to sit for a bit until another flight can be arranged.” Daniel turned off the volume of a few monitors.

“Ok, Daniel.” Bilbo was more than happy to let Daniel handle things. He was very tired of handling everything.

\----

“Let’s see how those nanos that you slipped into your system before running away are working.” Dwalin checked Thorin’s bandages as Oin’s face on a tablet scowled.

“Not as well as I’d hoped.” Oin hissed. “They weren’t programed with Theo’s genetic information. I doubt half are even active after so many weeks.”

“I’d be just fine if you hadn’t been so insistent in filtering mine out before I was kicked out of the mountain.” Dwalin adjusted the monitors for Oin, and then collapsed into a plush seat. He had commandeered a fancy executive suite complete with a wet bar and kitchen.

“Mining companies have been trying to get ahold of the nano plans for decades. Imagine having miners that healed themselves. Erecorp, Inc. would lose half its sales.” Oin muttered as he began programming Dwalin’s new infusion of nanos.

“The little buggers don’t last long enough to be worth the money it takes to make them.” Dwalin wanted nothing more than to sleep in the plush chair. Of course this was when the bearded brat would wake again.

“No. I won’t go back.” Thorin began thrashing. Dwalin just laid his head back as his eyes closed.

\----

“Put him here.” Daniel and a security guard dragged Dwalin’s heavy form from the office, up the plane’s steps, into a back corner. Somehow Balin had arranged for another medical flight without customs being aware of it. Daniel got them all loaded with medical supplies and orders from Oin.

“Is there room for one more?” Nori smiled as he got on last.

“Dwalin isn’t using a seat.” Daniel had his seat belt securely fastened and his white knuckled grip was engaged on both arm rests. “What brings you home?”

“I couldn’t resist a relaxed flight. Hitching a ride is never easy on the best of days, and your brother is worried about you.” Nori ignored the seatbelt and one flight nurse’s glare as he blew her a kiss and got comfortable. “Actually, all of us have been ordered home immediately by the king himself. Word has gotten out about a few pet dwarves getting off their leashes.”

“I was supposed to provide light security for a routine transport. Benjamin screwed up big time twice in as many days.”

“It’s more than that. Balin has been suspended from his duties while the king sorts out this mess. Dwalin has been removed from his duties and ordered on house arrest pending a review of his actions. I’ve been given orders from the highest level.” Nori pulled out a small case. He opened it and held out a small syringe.

“Euthanasia?” Daniel had seen Oin put severely injured miners to sleep.

“Thorin is too old to start over now. Dwalin was to erase his memories.” Nori looked over at the now heavily sedated prince; Thorin’s head lolled to the side. “Let some impassive medic do it, I don’t have the stomach for the job. I’m Erebor’s hidden eyes, not the board’s patsy to do their dirty work.”

”Don’t think it’s what any of us need.” Nori turned away and watched out the window.

“How’re you doing, Bill?” Daniel called out to the half aware Bilbo.

“I want my mom.” Bilbo mumbled as sunrise filtered into the windows.

“We’re reduced to nursery workers.” Nori mumbled without looking over.

“So we are. What were you thinking?” Daniel stared at the silent Dwalin the rest of the flight.

\----

Dori watched on one of his workstation’s monitors as Balin was arrested and hauled from the main computer room. He sigh over the link that Nori had sent him of the airplane’s interior. His child had refused to even text a single word. Nori just sat and watched out of his window, even as they offered him a meal while the plane refueled at Orocarni International Airport.

Dwalin had woke up, but also refused food as he sat on the floor against a bulkhead. Dori knew that Dwalin knew the fate awaiting him. The old dwarf doubted that he would be more than a miner for the remainder of his life, if he was not “disposed of”.

Theo, the child that it had taken so long to create…Dori couldn’t look. His attention was caught on the smallish human that Dori couldn’t see in the feed. Dori felt a surge of anger against this unknown person. He had caused all of this mess and Dori was going to figure out why.

\----


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prelude to the tour that explains it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything will be explained when Bilbo takes the grand Erebor tour. 
> 
> For those who may have noticed, my new chapters got shuffled out of order when I posted them today. Comments meant for one chapter have jumped to other chapter endings.

Bilbo was cold and alone when he woke. He was stretched out on a metal table, his lower half covered in a stark white sheet. There were no I.V.’s attached to him, no tubes draining embarrassing fluids, no monitors to alert anyone to his awakening. The only things of note were gauze pads taped to each side of his neck, and he felt better than he ever had before.

The table was next to an empty table, partitioned off from a larger area by two glass walls. In fact, all of the area’s walls were glass. Bilbo sat up and looked around; the entire open area must be bigger than a football field with several sections like his.

Bilbo got up and wrapped the sheet around himself. He walked down to another section and looked in. A gruff looking dwarf with dark cropped hair and short beard was lying on a table. His eyes were closed and one arm was stretched out, wrapped in a silvery bandage. Two large I.V. lines connected to the dwarf’s neck, a blue fluid sparkling inside.

The second table’s occupant was a dwarf with brown hair that was almost red; it was also close cropped and his beard shorn. He only had gauze taped to his neck, but his eyes were also closed and he didn’t stir.

“I envy the recuperative powers of youth.” A deep voice startled Bilbo.

“Mind you, I don’t envy the emotional ups and downs, but to not be quite so stiff when the mountain gets cold…” An older dwarf shrugged, his braids and beard streaked with gray. He was dressed in a one piece suit with a window for him to look out.

“Where am I?”

“You are in the quarantine section of Erebor’s main infirmary, Mr. Baginski. I’m Oin and this is my infirmary.” A gloved hand was held out. Bilbo shook it cautiously.

“Why am I not sick?” Bilbo blurted out after snatching his hand back from the firm shake.

“You were, for four days. Don’t worry, you responded well to my treatments, better than this old badger.” Oin patted the gruff dwarf’s shoulder. “You’ll be let out of here in another five days. Then you can tour Erebor proper. Nothing personal; everyone who comes in to the mountain without a suit goes through quarantine. There are so many human diseases out there that my kin have no immunity to, you see.”

“No I don’t see.” Bilbo shook his head. “Why am I waking up halfway across the world from my home where I went to bed?”

“We were hoping that you could tell us. Now we’ll all have to wait for Dwalin to wake up. He’s the one that dragged you here.” Oin turned his attention to the dwarf, unwrapping the silver bandaging to reveal pink tinged skin. “It’ll be another day or two; his nanos had to grow their culture in his system before beginning repairs.”

“Nanos are tiny machines. How?” Bilbo couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Biochemical machines. All cells are machines I’ll remind ya before you get all huffy.” Oin’s voice was full of reproof even if he didn’t look up from rewrapping the dwarf’s arm.

“I’m not full of those…things?” Bilbo backed up as he touched his neck.

“Without those things, your kidneys would take weeks to repair themselves. Consider it a gift for being dragged across the world.”  Oin sigh at Bilbo’s expression. “Don’t get all paranoid; I know how to treat more than just dwarves.”

“No. It’s forbidden. When the men came, they sought to eliminate us.” Bilbo remembered his mother’s warnings.

“I’ve known about Hobville for years. I know that it is one of only three places left with intact hobbit descendant communities. I know that Hobville has the highest concentration of hobbit genetics due to your kissing cousins ideals. I also know that in the last two generations all three communities have lost at least half of their young people moving away and not returning. They move away and marry outsiders, ending their lines’ eligibility for recording in your precious genealogy books.” Oin easily revealed Bilbo’s extended family’s most guarded secrets.

“”You, Mr. William Baginski, Junior are one of the last remaining direct descendants of the hobbit Thain line. Clever breeding you’ve done, but you’re still a Took.” Oin pointed at Bilbo’s rather large feet, feet that had a coating of rather thick hair up past his ankles. “Your ears are rather pointed as well, results of the inbreeding I’d say, since its only come up in the last thirty years or so.”

“I need to get home. I have school and my parents will be worried.” Bilbo backed into a corner, until he saw other dwarves dressed in scrubs on the other side of the glass staring at him and taking notes.

“You’ll be in quarantine ten days, no exception. Then you’ll be the guest of our king while the nanos are still active in your system.”

“You can take them out. Dwalin complained.” Bilbo could recall fragments.

“You were very sick Mr. Baginski, and you are still healing. The nanos cannot be deactivated to be removed if they are still hard at work. Removing them, they would take chunks of your organs with them.”

“What happened to him?” Bilbo nodded towards the shorter dwarf with reddish hair.

“Recalled home from the outside world. Nori’s just gotten a long overdue infusion of his own nanos. We’ll keep him in healing stasis his ten days, the thief can’t sit still for five minutes anyway. He’ll be extra sore about losing his beard and hair, but it’s standard quarantine procedure.”

“If your suit leaked?” Bilbo cocked his head to one side.

“It’s leaked before and it will again. Standard ten days for all, no exception.” Oin seemed long suffering on this subject. “It’s why most medics prefer to keep our patients in healing stasis. The nanos keep the patient in a state similar to a deep sleep. Very relaxing, I’m told.”

“What is Erebor, besides a mountain?” This was all too much. Bilbo felt violated, covered in only a sheet as his people’s secrets were rubbed in his face.

“I’ll leave that for the tour. You’ll be one of very few humans to ever enter Erebor without being contained in an environmental suit. I’ll need to get a blood sample from you before I leave.” Oin turned, a small vial in hand.

“Where is Daniel?” Bilbo drew away. “Where is he?”

“Back at his job on perimeter security, I suppose.” Oin looked confused and put the vial down with a sigh. “Why?”

“Did he forget me?” Daniel was his friend, he remembered, yes he did.

“I’m guessing that Daniel went through a long debriefing, then left you in peace to heal up.”

“He’s not here.”

“Daniel doesn’t live in the mountain. It’s his kind’s job to be the dwarves buffer between Erebor and the world.”

“Can I call him?”

“After you get out of quarantine. It was found that total quarantine is mentally better for you. Come, Mr. Baginski, we’ll find you a bed and a set of clothes.” Dwalin now forgotten like a child’s toy, Oin wandered off.

\----


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin has a rude awakening. Oin doesn't take any shit. Bilbo reaches a breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I promised the last chapter to be the prelude to the tour, but my muse sputtered out for lack of enough character development details. Here are three more chapters that introduce a few new characters and answer a few of your questions. Chapter 18 will be the tour chapter but it's a toughy. I have all of the details and actions in my head, but merging two things that were developed separately is a bit hard. Every angle that I'm trying for the opening doesn't seem to open the story; they just add more background details. I want a tour chapter, dear muse. Not more chapters about unhappy characters! I'd appreciate any input if there is something that you want to see or if something seems off in the story line. I've edited the chapters for over a week now and this seems to be the limit of my creativity this week. Enjoy! Feedback comments are awesome!

Thorin stifled a pained grunt as his chin was held an iron grip. He was lifted to his feet and his cheek squashed against the glass wall separating his room from the rest of the quarantine infirmary.

“Ya see? See?” Rage filled the familiar, yet unknown voice. This was Dwalin’s father, head of the entire Ereborean security forces. He was the king’s closest aid, but Thorin had rarely had an opportunity to even see the now enraged dwarf. That had changed the moment Thorin woke up.

Right now Thorin watched as Bilbo woke and spoke to Oin. No matter how angry Dwalin’s father was, Bilbo was still here. Thorin had not lost him.

“Ya see how your so called friend doesn’t ask about you, doesn’t even look around for you? You’ve ruined my son’s career, his life, for yet another selfish human who doesn’t care about us dwarves. See how your precious Bilbo asks about Daniel? See how humans only care about other humans.”

Thorin’s breath hissed through his teeth as his face was pushed against the wall again. His face ached from the stinging slaps that hit every time he nodded off, as questions were repeated again and again in his face.

“Not gonna talk even now? Fine!” Thorin was thrown back into his seat.

“I’ll ask ya again and again until you break, you little bastard. The moment you left this mountain you lost your rank and privileges.” Earlier, as he had hacked off Thorin’s braids one by one, the dwarf had cried, but not made a sound.

“Who helped you to get out of the mountain? How did you bypass my security? How did you get a cloak suit?” The questions began again and went on and on. Thorin felt his grip on consciousness slipping yet again. A slap and then another slap brought his head back up. “You are a disposable wretch! You could have let my son bring you in nice and easy. You would have woke up none the wiser.”

The elder dwarf stepped back, huffing from all of his efforts. “You’ll be stricken from the record, you’ll be forgotten, ya little maggot.”

“I have found what all of you sought and could never find. You are the failure.” Thorin barely gasped out the words, still glaring stubbornly.

“And what would that be, oh so wise prince?” The dwarf gave a mocking bow, but no more blows came as he stood waiting for an answer.

“I have found the truest friend that a person could ask for. I have found unwavering loyalty and bravery.”

“Everything that you are not, little bastard. At least one of your helpers has been apprehended; the others are soon to follow.”

“What?” Thorin could hardly breathe.

“Your Balin, my own nephew, has been caught red handed with a system master key. It seems like you are just the tip of the iceberg, Theo.”

“No!” Thorin roared, allowing pain to finally well up.

“Then you should have cooperated if you wanted leniency.”

“Get out of my infirmary!” The bellowed roar echoed in the enclosed room as the door swung open and cracked upon impact as Oin rushed in.

“Get out! Aucus, get this idiot out of my infirmary.” Oin took in the sight of his patient. Rage filled his eyes as he hauled the intruder off by the collar.

“I will be dragging you in front of the king in exactly one hour, so you had better have a darn good explanation for all of this.” The old dwarf sent Thorin’s tormentor flying out of the room with a swift kick to the arse.

“Bilbo!” Thorin breathed out a rush of relief as the sheet clad human put his hands on his face.

“Aye.” Oin began muttering to himself as he took in the damage. “MY infirmary. Of all the…”

“Bilbo, are you alright?” Thorin forgot about his own pain as he took Bilbo’s hands in his own, the cold fingers warming against his cheeks.

“I’ll…I’ll take you home. Yo…You’ll be safe there, I promise.” Bilbo’s teeth were chattering with more than cold. Bilbo’s mind was numb; all he knew was a desire to run home, home where it was safe and others did not hurt each other so. He had seen cousins get into fights plenty of times, and had even swung a fist a time or two himself. Bilbo had never before seen such viciousness as was worn on the scary dwarf’s face.

“Narin, see to the lad.” Bilbo was pulled away from Thorin as he stood on shaky legs. The prince was supported by at least three dwarves and led out.

“It’s alright. Here, here.” Bilbo was wrapped in a blanket and carried away. He vaguely noticed that Narin with her rainbow of sparkling beard beads was a dame. She held him close, making shushing sounds as she rocked him in her arms.

“I want my mom and dad.” Something broke inside of Bilbo. He was now in an unknown place where he had no control. He had never felt so vulnerable or frightened.

“Just let it out. Shush, shush.” Narin kept him close as his tears turned to cries of grief, never seeing the crowd of dwarves gathering outside of the glass.

\----

“How has everything gone so wrong?” Two dwarves stood alone at a section of glass, watching with grim faces. The one who had spoken had a long black beard down his chest, liberally streaked with gray. A silver crown with sweeping raven wings up the sides sat on a head devoid of all but two braids at his temples. The king’s deep blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

The second dwarf wore the rich red robes of the king’s most trusted advisor. His rich brown hair had long since turned gray with only streaks of its original color. It was pulled back and held with a square cut gem clasp. His own beard was half the length of the king’s, but it was full and curled in two directions at the bottom.

“All of our sons have gone against our wishes, it seems.” This voice carried the heaviness of its owner’s own heart with the news of his son’s arrest, heavy with what his own brother had been reduced to. “Leave them alone for a time, relieved of their duties. Let us watch them as they show this lad around Erebor. I fear that we have not given them enough attention. Perhaps we can then understand better when we listen to their answers to our questions.”

“What if they do not answer? Humans are not known for their patience, and they are our masters.” The king gave his advisor a sidewise glance.

“Let us show our trust in our sons’ judgement and move on from there.”

“Will kind words make up for harsh blows?” The king would never forget the sight of Bilbo wrapping Theo in his own sheet, caring but helpless hands clenching and unclenching ineffectively as he was clearly at a loss as how to fix this.

“My brother loves his son and Erebor itself more than his own life. He will do as you say.” This reply hardly answered a question that none knew the answer to. Thorin was used to a harsh regiment of weapons training, but only his flight had told them that they barely under stood their prince. The poor boy in front of them, the so stoic and surprisingly mature teenager had visibly broken merely at seeing his friend’s bruised and shorn face.

“Then we shall leave Balin and Dwalin in charge of our errant prince and his guest until this is all explained.” The king’s deep voice rumbled with emotion. Breaking the his trust had earned his other advisor a king’s wrath.

 “I will keep a positive attitude as we hope for the best.”

“It is all that we can do, my king.”

\----


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's mother doesn't take shit either. Braedon really should have taken that transfer. Bilbo doesn't know heads from tails. Nori is ecstatic to come home to Dori (not).

“Erecorp, Inc. Human Resources Department. Benjamin Balinson’s office. This is Braedon Bofurson speaking. How may I help you today?”

“Hello, Braedon, how are you? I hope that you are the fellow to help me with a rather interesting problem.” A sweet older woman’s voice spoke in a pleasant tone.

“I’m just fine, ma’am. How many I help you today?” Ever the gentleman, Braedon tossed his other calls back to the mainframe for rerouting.

“I’m so glad to hear that, Braedon. On November 18 my son went to see the doctor.”

“I do hope that it’s nothing serious, ma’am.” Braedon’s first puzzled expression appeared.

“It is. For you see, my son was admitted to Harlond City General. Harlond is where my son started college this past August, right before his 19th birthday. He’s my only child; did I mention that, Braedon?” The woman’s voice was sickly sweet by now.

“You just did, ma’am.” Braedon suddenly wanted to hide under his desk.

“Did I also mention that my son, my only child, my sick child, is under 21? He just turned 19, still underage.  Did you hear me, Braedon?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Braedon now knew exactly who this woman was.

“Then perhaps you can help me with my problem, Braedon. My husband and I appointed a cousin of ours, Andwise Baginski, we call him Andy, you see?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Braedon rerouted his boss’ line to Public Affairs.

“Andy is my husband’s second cousin, but we grew up together, so we know him. He also lives in Harlond and promised us that he would look after my boy. So when we were told that my precious baby boy needed to be transferred to Gray Haven Medical Center, Andy immediately offered to accompany him. Are you listening, Braedon?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Braedon covered his face with his hat.

“Andy took a week’s emergency sick leave during the busiest season at his job. He arranged for his sister to drive out all the way from Frogmorton to stay with his very pregnant wife. Imagine his surprise when he arrived at the hospital the next morning, that’s 4 a.m., dear. Andy arrived to accompany Bilbo when he was transferred just to find that my son was gone. Are you listening, Braedon?” The woman’s voice became pure sugar.

“Someone sent over new guardian papers for my son, though neither I nor my husband signed the forms. The new guardian, named Dwalin, had my son put on another flight leaving at 9 p.m. the night before. The strange thing is we cannot find any record of that flight at Minas Tirith airport. My husband and I had to spend our Thanksgiving holiday terrified for our son. Did I mention that we are not in good health, Braedon?”

“No, ma’am.” Braedon wanted to throw up.

“The police finally tracked down my son to Halifax, just to lose any trace of him there. But my husband’s father, the former Judge Harold Baginski, perhaps you’ve heard of him, Braedon?”

“I will soon hear plenty, ma’am.” For the first time Braedon regretted turning down that transfer to Hawaii.

“Good to hear. My husband’s father used some old contacts, though of course the entire family was using contacts; you understand, Braedon?”

“I do, ma’am.” Braedon wondered just how big of a family that Bilbo had. Probably more than a hundred contacts had been called around the world. At least one would connect somehow to Erecorp, Inc.

“We couldn’t trace the flight from Halifax, but we could trace the hospital phone records for that day. It turns out that a Benjamin Balinson, who was seen visiting my son, called Erecorp, Inc.”

“He is my supervisor, yes, ma’am.” Braedon felt trapped like a worm in a robin’s beak.

“It also turns out that guardianship papers for my son were sent from his office, and you are his administrative assistant, Braedon.”

“Yes, ma’am. It was requested that I look up and forward a copy of such papers to my supervisor, but they were not filled out.”

“Cut the crap. Where is my son, Braedon?” The woman’s voice was now full of a mother’s wrath. “I do NOT know this Dwalin. I DO want some answers. NOW!”

“Mrs. William Baginski, I assume?” Braedon was a dead dwarf. There was silence on the other end of the phone line. “Your son, William Baginski, Junior, was flown from Halifax Stanfield International Airport to Orocarni International Airport on the morning of November 21.”

“My son is in Europe?” It sounded like the phone was being crushed.

“At 5 a.m. local time November 22, the party safely arrived in Erebor.”

“Stinking dwarves stole my son! Why, you son of a…” Braedon pulled his headset off as a string of curse words from around the world were drilled into his eardrum.

“I’ve done my fair share of traveling, Braedon, and I know exactly what I’m dealing with here.”

“Those new to the mountain enter a ten day isolation quarantine in the medical infirmary. I’m sorry, Mrs. Baggins, but that is all that I know.”

“You don’t know if Bilbo was sent elsewhere?” The woman sounded like she was weeping now.

“I’ve told you all that either I or my supervisor would know, Mrs. Baggins. I’ll probably lose my job for telling you. I wish I could help you. Just know that if Dwalin does have your son, he’s in good hands.” Braedon pulled out a box to begin packing up his cubicle.

“You’ve been quite the help, Braedon. I’ll make certain that you keep your job. I’ll take it from here, dear. Goodbye.” The connection ended.

“Yes, Mrs. Baggins.” Braedon stopped packing as two burly security guards stood in front of him. “I hope so.”

\----

“What day is it?” Bilbo once again wrapped himself in his sheet. He had woken from a long, dreamless sleep on a metal table next to Nori of all people. 

“Thursday, December 1st. 10 a.m.” Nori sat up, scratching his side as he looked around. After a long yawn the dwarf looked around. “You’ve forgotten your…Hey! Where are MY clothes?” The carefree dwarf quickly turned into a prude, wrapping his entire body in his sheet. “Don’t go looking at me like that, lad.” 

“How did you know the time?” Bilbo saw no clocks or calendars around. The quarantine section was apparently a bare minimum area. 

“Oh, all dwarves know the time when we are in Erebor. There’s this little…” Nori paused. “We’re in Erebor?” 

“Uh huh.” Bilbo nodded. 

“Oh my.” Nori felt his scalp and chin. He went up to a wall and looked at his reflection in the glass. A fist smashing against it made a dwarf taking notes jump back, paper flying everywhere. “Oin! What in the deepest mines had you thinking that I needed repatriated? An environmental room would have been just fine, but NO. Let’s have some fun at old Nori’s expense! What’s going on here?” 

“Dori sent you fresh clothes. Get a shower and head on home. He’s expecting you.” A suit free Oin came in and shoved a bag at the furious dwarf. 

“The beard, Oin.” Nori was not whining. How old was the dwarf anyway? 

“You’ve been recalled and repatriated until further notice, king’s orders. Besides, your implants needed an upgrade, and you hadn’t had a nano culture in at least a decade. I had to give you three infusion treatments to counteract all of the damage you’ve done to yourself gallivanting across the world doing who knows what.” 

“Until further notice?” Nori looked crushed. “I’m stuck here?” 

“Relieved of all duties. Now go home. I’m certain that Dori has plans for the two of you.” 

“Why did you have to tell father that I’m here?” Nori did not look like he relished the thought of family time. “How long?” 

“He’s known since you got on the plane.” Oin smirked. 

“Dori has had ten days, TEN DAYS, to plan my life.” Nori was not whimpering as he wandered off. 

“Is that a dwarf thing?” Bilbo looked at Oin.

“It’s a Dori thing.” Oin shrugged. “Speaking of parents, let’s get you some clothes before you call yours.”

“Are they alright?” Bilbo’s face went so pale that Oin took a grip on his arm.

“Your mother has quite the temper, but all is well. They’ll be expecting your call in an hour. You have enough time to shower and eat a good meal. Unless you prefer an I.V. drip; you’re awfully pale and I could run some tests to rule out anemia.” Oin’s expression would brook no arguments about eating.

“Right, then. Where are the showers?”

\----


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori uses Dori's distraction with Nori to see the world. The king takes Bilbo literally at his word when he finds himself clueless as to handle this whole situation with his son. The Baginski's and Hobbiton are the proud new owners of their new city planner who thinks that he is an expert in urban redevelopment.

“Mrs. Baginski?” There was a hesitant knock at Donna Baginski’s hospital room door at three in the morning. The light was on and the door open, but a second knock still came.

“Come in.” Donna Baginski gripped the rail of her hospital bed, ready to unleash her fury on whoever came in.

“Stay calm, love.” William gave his wife’s other hand a squeeze. They had sat up most of the night, waiting an eternity.

“Ori the Younger, at your service, my lady.” A short man with exquisite red braids and a rather short red brown beard with many small braids secured with gold clasps came in. He held a briefcase close, but still executed a perfect bow.

“I…” Donna Baginski held her breath. The person before her was not dressed in a medical coat, or even an expensive suit like everyone else official around here seemed to wear. Donna had always wondered about the truth to the wild tales, now she was looking at proof herself. This dwarf, who stood no taller than the rather short William’s chin, wore what she would call a medieval style of clothing from his black boots to his rich green cape.

“My king, King under the Mountain, fourth of his name Thorin, sends his personal apologies for all of your heartache, not as a king, but as a parent himself.” Ori’s young voice was grave.

“Please sit, Ori.” William motioned to the empty chair and table next to his own chair. He nudged his own speechless wife. Her dumbstruck expression changed to a heated glare, one the king himself would be proud to wear, in Ori’s opinion.

“I will not accept the apologies of any thieving bastard.” Donna’s voice dripped venom. She waved her free hand around the hospital room. “Offering free medical care at your pompous Gray Havens facility does nothing to redeem any of you in my eyes.”

“I will relay your words to my king, my lady.” Ori still faced the angry woman. He had not been sent because he lacked a spine, though his fresh faced youth was having its intended effects on William.

“Why isn’t he here? Why isn’t your precious king at least on Skytattle, speaking his own noble words?” Donna spit. William tried to shush her, watching her monitors. She looked at his worried face and breathed out long and hard.

“We have our rules, my lady.” Ori now looked truly sad.

“Your king is a…”

“Property of Erecorp, Inc., just like any other of my kind. Our masters set the rules. The king is not allowed to leave Erebor, nor is he allowed to communicate with the outside world through electronic means. Use of his voice and image are copyrighted and regulated.” Now Ori looked at the floor, the proud dwarf obviously embarrassed. He had always dreamed of getting permission to travel, as his father did. This was not how any dwarf dreamed of seeing the world.

“So you’ve taken my son to a gilded cage.” Donna Baginski was not moved. “Forged our signatures to get him, no less.”

“Forgive me the limits of my rank, but I’m not privy to the circumstances surrounding your son’s arrival.” A now composed Ori met Donna’s glare again.

“How was he; is Bilbo well?” William asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes, your son is very well.” Now Ori gave a bright smile. “He has turned the king’s court topsy turvy. Are you ready for your conference call on Skytattle?” Ori set the case down and opened it, revealing a screen. He set out two speakers and a microphone on the table.

“Yes!” Both parents nearly shouted. Ori closed the door and set a hand sized metal box on the floor. A red light on it began to flash.

“A jammer of sorts. It prevents any tracing of the signal. All connections to Erebor proper are highly classified.” Ori typed something on the screen’s displayed keyboard.

“Authorization level Court Scribe. Ori the Younger. Ori Epsilon Two. Commence transmission. Ori put his thumb on a small thumb scanner.

“Transmission request received. Oin the Elder. Ah, you know who it is! Just let the boy talk.” Oin’s image appeared for a moment at his office desk. There was a blur as a confused Bilbo was plopped into the chair.

“Bilbo.” Donna drank in the sight of her son. He was wearing dark blue coveralls that he seemed to swim in, highlighting his too thin face.

“Knock when you are finished.” Ori quietly whispered as he slipped outside.

“How are you, son?” William pulled the briefcase closer.

“I just woke up.” Bilbo shrugged, still in a daze. “I’ve been rushed around. Oin is a bit pushy. I’ve had a shower and he made me eat some breakfast. Dwarven fare is rather spicy, but scrambled eggs are universal, I guess.”

“When will your plane be arriving home?” Donna was not a patient woman. “I want times and flight numbers.”

“Oin, the head medic here, he’s over one hundred years old, would you believe it?” Bilbo’s face made the same grimace it had made when he was a child and the cookies that Donna had baked were suddenly missing. “He says that Erecorp is paying for your treatments, Mom. How are you feeling?”

“The doctors are optimistic about her new medicine.” William cut his wife’s tirade off. “Though I had to drag her here to accept the referral to Gray Havens. It’s quite the place. I’m feeling rather tall here myself.” It seemed like half of the staff from janitors to medical staff were “half-kin”, and though they all wore different hair styles and colors, most looked like each other.

“When. Are. You. Coming. Home?” Donna ignored her husband’s pained face as she held his hand rather tight.

“I can’t come home for Christmas.” Bilbo looked away. “I was sick…and…and they have medical treatments here that are like no other, but…they’re a secret…and I need monitored as the treatment finishes its job.”

“You are coming home today.” Donna was seeing through a red haze.

“Donna!” William tried to pacify her.

“No, I will not wait…” Bilbo cringed as she shouted.

“Mom, I’ve a friend here who needs me.” Bilbo sat with his chin cupped in his hands as a lengthy tirade finally erupted.

“Bilbo, I will not let...” Bilbo’s ears instinctively closed and muffled the sound.

“I’m sorry that I worried you so, Mom and Dad. I’m sorry that I can’t be with you right now, but I’m not a small child anymore. I’m alright; you must trust me when I say that. Trust me when I say that I’ll be home as soon as I can, but my friend needs me even if I can’t leave yet.” Bilbo’s face looked tortured as he shook his head, clearly overwhelmed. “He saved my life when he pulled me out of the way of that car. He’s done nothing but try and help me. I won’t let him down.”

“Bilbo.” Donna was crying. Her precious son was in her worst nightmare.

“We understand, son. You do what you have to do.” William turned the screen to show only himself. “We trust you.”

“I just. I can’t do this.” Bilbo reached for something on Oin’s desk and the screen went dark.

“Bilbo!” Donna’s cry was ripped from her throat. “How could you say that? You know what they want from him, William.”

“We raised Bilbo to think on his feet, to think for himself.” He held his crying wife. This grief would not help her condition.

“Get that Ori in here. I want my questions answered.” Donna wiped her eyes a few moments later.

“It appears that he is gone.” William searched the room. Neither had seen anyone enter, but the briefcase and all of its contents were gone. There was no trace of the young dwarf, nor could he find any staff that had seen him leave.

“We will just have to trust our son.” William steeled himself for his wife’s wrath. Instead, she looked at him with a defeated expression. Her proud line had kept their history for centuries, jealously guarding the last vestiges of their heritage.

“Will our grandchildren be property? Will their grandchildren have masters?”

\----

“Thorin?” Balin the Elder put his hand on his king’s shoulder. After watching the grief stricken exchange, he had stood on his balcony that overlooked all of the mountain for long, silent moments.

“I’m torn, Balin.”

“How so?”

“I’m torn between Erebor’s needs as its king and a father with a son who is property, who does have masters.”

“As dwarves we are as enduring as the mountain herself, Thorin. With this boy’s help, we will have stable kings able to bring a change to that one day. Sometimes we must sacrifice the present generations for future ones.”

“Why did our ancestors sacrifice future generations for their own, Balin? We pay and will continue to pay a heavy price for our ancestors’ shortsightedness. Why should I drag another race into our unhappiness?”

“Without Bilbo Baginski’s intervention, without your willingness to do what needs done, our children’s future will only be as property with masters.”

“Before I condemn more children, I will get to know this Bilbo Baginski. Authorize Oin’s request for an additional infusion treatment for my son’s guest.” Thorin turned away from his balcony, decision made.

“It isn’t medically necessary; he will heal well without further intervention. Oin just wants to try out his cures on new subjects. I doubt this lad wants to stay.”

“I will hold him to his own words. Bilbo Baginski will stay until he starts a new semester of school at the university that we deem best fit for both his and our needs. All of Erebor’s resources are at his disposal. Bilbo wishes to stay for my son, so be it. Give him the same privileges that my son receives.”

“What of the parents?”

“Assign Braedon Bofurson to see to their every need. That idiot started this mess with them, he will clean it up. Pay off their house; get them the best medical care. Build their town a new school, a new factory or whatever they need to boost their economy, I don’t care. It’s Braedon’s problem to figure out. He’ll be living in Hobbiton permanently as its caretaker.” Thorin the Elder, King under the Mountain, stormed out of his office to parts unknown once again.

“Why us? Haven’t we already paid the price for madness? When will it end?” Balin the Elder left the king’s office to see how his own son was fairing confined to quarters.

\----  



	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is ready to pack up Thorin and head home.

Bilbo sat at Oin’s desk for several long moments, staring at the blank screen of the monitor.  Oin finally grabbed his shoulder and shook him.

“Don’t be like that, lad. Your mother is receiving the best care.”

“My mother is literally worrying herself into an early grave. When can I go home?” Bilbo saw thoughts of Fred, rent, school assignments, and everything else swimming around in front of him. “My family let me go to school early because I’m responsible. Now look at me.”

Oin scowled as Bilbo turned with a morose face. “Let's not have any of that now, Bilbo. You have been given a unique opportunity. Don’t squander it.”

“I won’t. When will I be released?” Bilbo’s face showed his resolve as his mind forced itself to be responsible.

“I don’t know. I could predict the nanos to last three weeks, only for them to still be active in your system at four. Perhaps we will just have to accept that the only known fact is that you are here. I’ll take you to meet your guide before I go to an arse kicking meeting.” Oin cracked his knuckles thoughtfully. He had seen the king personally take out his anger on those who deserved it a time or two, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared to throw a swing or two himself.

“I want to see Thorin. When will he be well enough to travel?”

“Where to? He’s just come home,” Oin couldn’t help but smile at the puffed up youngster. How the young felt themselves oh so important when they knew so little.

“I promised to take Thorin home with me.” Bilbo looked dead serious.

“I understand you were upset, and rightly so, but you cannot just show up at home with a dwarf by your side, Bilbo.” Oin held in a snicker. “The price alone is astronomical.”

“I can take up my father’s trade if I have to. It’s traditional to for a son to stay by his father’s side to learn his craft until he is 25. Then we go off to college if we are still so inclined. I will support my family; I’ve just not put enough effort into learning what my dad tried to teach me.” Bilbo pushed memories of smashed fingers and crooked birdhouses out of his mind. “My parents would not snub a dwarf either; no one in Hobbiton would.”

“I didn’t mean the cost of supporting your family and a dwarf, Bilbo. Thorin is not a human able to do as he pleases and go where he wishes. He is property, pure and simple; property worth millions of dollars. He is the Crown Prince of Erebor. One day he will be king.”

“No one can be forced to be something.” Bilbo still looked defiant. With that look, Oin immediately changed his plans for the stubborn teenager. He had no doubt that both he and Thorin could be on the Baginski’s doorstep within a day.

“Bilbo, dwarves exist only because of Erecorp, Inc. History is right; our race did become extinct, despite the lies of how. Most of the dwarves that you will meet, including Thorin, are clones. The dwarven race did not have a naturally spawned dwarfling until two centuries ago, and they are still a precious few. Thorin, or Theo as he is called, is the only one of his kind. No amount of money will buy freedom from his destiny.”

Bilbo looked at Oin, clearly pondering his words. His own words followed in a rasping hiss of disdain. “You treat him like trash.”

“Listen, you little…” Oin wasn’t about to be talked to like he was the one in the wrong.

“Yes, Hobbiton, Hobville, and Westmarch have a low birthrate, but even when our communities were thriving we never, ever condoned abuse of a child or a tween. Do not tell me that Thorin isn’t a teen; he acts just like my younger cousins.” Bilbo continued to hiss like a tea kettle, his never changing serious expression now highly amusing, almost.

“I’m sorry, lad. I’ll tell the king that your words were influenced by your worry for your parents, as you just spoke to them. But I’ll warn you now to stop speaking in such a way when you know nothing of Erebor or its citizens.” Oin met another dwarf at the door to his office and came back in with what looked like a cellphone.

“They also give proof of your loyalty to Thorin, which is good, and your intentions, which are misguided to put it lightly. I’ll not deny that Thorin is not an adult, nor that he acts immature for his age. You’ll be a most welcome influence for the boy, even after your infamous arrival. We just need to take a few precautions to reassure the king that everyone stays safe and sound.”

“Precautions?” Bilbo had no doubt that Oin’s definition of safe and sound did not include what Bilbo wanted.

“I’ve been working on upgrading the nanos’ usefulness. Stasis was an upgrade a decade ago, but one couldn’t block out stimuli. Now, well, let me show you.” Oin tapped a sequence on his device. Bilbo felt like all the blood in his body began a mad dash for his head before the world began to spin and everything went black.

\----

“It took twenty-seven years to successfully extract material that we could use from my grandfather, Dwalin.  You know that my father’s actions made the board of directors deem my own code, tainted with my father’s memories, too volatile to be trusted.” The king circled his security advisor for what seemed the thousandth time. “As I was one of those who lost a son, I tend to agree with them.”

“He’s unstable, and showed that he can bypass the mountain’s security. For that reason alone he is too dangerous to keep.” Dwalin the Elder expected his king to do something, anything, as he circled his advisor. Instead, Thorin’s hand would ghost across a cheek or shoulder, never quite touching. It was highly unnerving to a dwarf bred for action and little else.

“Without close peers to socialize with, Theo spent more time learning about Erecorp’s technology than anyone realized.” Thorin hummed in agreement. “But he is also an adolescent, an immature adolescent. I depended on you to help me raise Theo, Dwalin. As a father yourself, you do realize the responsibility of a parent, don’t you?”

“Aye.” The stoic dwarf showed fear in his eyes for the first time.

“I’ve spoken to Oin. He was all too ready to beat you to a pulp, so he isn’t here. I do hope you don’t mind. He thinks this human boy is just what Theo needs. As your son was the one to bring him here, I’ll give you a reprieve, but just one.” Thorin stopped circling and sat on his throne. His face was anything but merciful.

“You nearly broke both Theo and the human with one move, Dwalin. You will return to your duties with that lesson well learned and in the forefront of your mind.”

“I will.” Dwalin knew what was coming. He had seen such decisions meted out for decades. He knew Thorin was serious. Once they had been cousins, family who were thick as thieves as they grew up together. That had changed the day that Thorin had stood in the ruins of the nursery, the day that Dwalin and Balin’s own sons had been spared.

Thorin the Elder had become a cold and distant new king of Erebor. The years that it took to have a new son were too many, with too many days filled with the business of running a kingdom without the reward of coming home to a strapping son. When presented with Theo, Thorin had been unable to replace years of grief with love for a son everyone knew was not his own, who would never carry on his memories to the next generation. He and his father would be forgotten.

“Dwalin the Younger will remain this human’s guardian. I deem his actions to be in Theo’s best interest, if not well thought out or executed.” The king didn’t miss his security advisor’s flinch at that last word. Good.

“The human will be our sons’ only priority for now. You will not interfere in any way. Do you understand, Dwalin the Elder?”

“No. Theo is a threat to Erebor and you will regret this decision. But my duty is to follow your orders and I can do that without understanding.” Dwalin inwardly cringed at his own words, but he would never lie to his king.

“Then obedience is all that I can ask for.” Thorin nodded his head in acceptance. It was his job to listen to his advisors, even if he disagreed with them. “To do otherwise is unwise.”

“That I understand.” Dwalin the Elder bowed his head.

“You had better. If your or your son act so abysmally in your duties again, I will find the need to create a new security advisor for Theo. This new advisor will be your new son, with your memories of your failures in his head to keep him from repeating history. Never again do I want to have to face the board of directors, our masters…” Here the king spat out the word in disgust. “Never again do I want to have to face them as I had to last night, thanks to your son’s actions.”

Dwalin’s face, his entire bearing seemed to shrink towards the floor in shame.

“I ordered Dwalin the Younger, I trusted your son that you trained, to bring Theo home quietly and safely. Instead, I’ve been surrounded by nothing short of inept decision making and treason. The board of directors wanted to euthanize your son just on the charges of kidnapping, Dwalin. I had to spout psychological babble about how Theo has been traumatized enough, though the irony is quite useful. Keep in mind that Theo is the only reason that Dwalin the Younger is alive and still in line for Security Advisor. Dismissed. Go see your son in the infirmary; he’s finally been released from quarantine.”

Dwalin said nothing as he turned and walked out of the throne room, the king’s piercing glare on him the entire time.

\----

“My brother would have preferred that you run him through with a sword.” Balin the Elder had remained unseen, as he often was. He rarely left the king’s side each day once Thorin donned the raven crown.

“The board wanted to punish him for damaging 11.24 million euros worth of property. Did you know that they tallied up exactly how much Theo is worth?” Thorin left his throne and turned to Balin the Elder. “11.24. Such a neat, clean number. How can a dwarf’s life be measured by such numbers, Balin?”

“It will work out, Thorin. We will continue with our plan. It has convinced the board of directors to be patient a bit longer, and that brings hope that I never thought to have.”

“Perhaps this hobbit is a luck wearer as well. Though Oin tells me that he’s ready to steal Theo away.”

“I don’t doubt he could. Nori would happily use them as a cover to escape himself.”

“Oin gave Nori his most recent updates, inspired by Theo. We will have to change many security protocols. Oin himself is initiating this Bilbo Baginski into Erebor’s security system as we speak. The boy definitely left an impression on him, enough to change pity to a healthy wariness.” Thorin did not see such a threat from Bilbo.

“If an old dwarf like Oin can learn to keep ahead of the young, then we will do just fine with Theo.” Balin smiled and shook his head. He would order a job skills test of the human in the morning. No one but Oin had considered how technically savvy an aspiring ecologist was. Now Balin recalled a conversation with Nori where the spy had mentioned that Bilbo designed his own computer programs for his experiments, without taking more than a high school computer class.

“One day our sons’ lives will not be so callously weighed and measured or cast aside when it’s deemed useful.” The king nodded and strode of for his own quarters.

“Will you visit Theo, Thorin?” Will you follow your own advice? Balin called out hopefully as he had done since the day Theo was presented to Thorin.

“Double check Oin’s work before you retire for the night.” The throne room door shut behind the king with an echoing thud.

“Theo needs a father, not a king, you old fool.” Balin shook his head and retired through an unseen door.

\---


End file.
